


Finding the way

by Quicksilvermaid



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, Bromance, Comfort, Eastwatch, Epic Bromance, Falling In Love, Friendship, Hurt, Jondry, M/M, Trust, dead man hunt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-24
Updated: 2017-08-25
Packaged: 2018-12-19 08:35:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 21,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11893986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quicksilvermaid/pseuds/Quicksilvermaid
Summary: Spoilers for 7x05 and 7x06Jon and the magnificent seven set out beyond the wall to hunt a dead man. Jon and Gendry get separated from the rest and have to get closer to survive and make their way home.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Couldn't get these two out of my head. 
> 
> I've wrote this on fanfic.net while I waited for my A03 login to clear. If you read it there, this is the same story with a few minor additions. 
> 
> Warning: suicidal thoughts in a later chapter
> 
>  
> 
> On Tumblr as squirrel-and-me if you want to drop by

Jon and Gendry were ranging out in front of the rest when it happened. One moment they were on solid ground, trudging through the snow, several paces from each other, the next the earth had shifted.

There was a sharp crack and Jon felt his feet go out from under him as he fell, snow billowing around him, covering his vision. Panic rose as he dropped through the air, but seconds later he thudded to the ground, falling heavily on his side. He heard a sharp cry from Gendry as he hit the ground nearby. Snow was still falling in on top of them, but less now. Jon struggled to sit up, glancing wildly around himself. He looked up and saw a silhouette of sky several spans above, through a hole in the ground. With a sharp curse he realised what had happened. They'd fallen through a thin patch of snow and ice covering an entrance to an underground cave. 

All around them was darkness, lit dimly by the shards of cold, clear sunlight from the hole. Jon pulled himself to his feet and scanned around, not seeing Gendry. His heartbeat sped up as he called out in a low voice, careful of triggering more snow in on their heads.  
'Gendry? Gen? Where are you?' There was no response to his words and thoughts started to race through his mind. He'd heard Gendry cry out as he fell, but what if he'd landed badly? What if he'd broken his neck? What -  
With a sharp exhale of relief, Jon saw a mound of snow off to his left shift slightly and he hurried over, plunging his gloved hands down into it. He felt the smith's broad, muscled shoulder and grasped his furs hard, grunting as he pulled him up into a sitting position, snow cascading off him. 

Gendry gasped and panted, looking around himself with wide, panicked eyes. Jon grasped him by both shoulders, kneeling in the snow in front of him. Gendry locked on Jon's face and seemed to calm down. He closed his eyes briefly, forcing himself to suck deeper, slower breaths. Then he opened them and met Jon's concerned gaze.  
'What the fuck just happened?' Gendry rasped.  
'We must have hit a thin patch in the ice cover' Jon responded. 'There's thousands of miles of caves and tunnels spread all over this land. Entrances pop up everywhere ...' Jon broke off, thinking of Ygritte and others in this land who'd known its secrets. He was about to ask Gendry if he was alright when a voice interrupted them. 

'You two ok down there?' It was Beric, poking his head gingerly over the edge of the hole to peer down in at them. Even his small movement caused clumps of snow to fall down, plopping wetly. Jon started, realised he was still gripping Gendry's shoulders, and pulled away, brushing one hand through his shaggy black hair to dislodge more snow.  
'Fine,' Jon called back up to him.  
'Alright, I think,' said Gendry, examining himself. 'I've scraped my arm on something I think but it's fine for now.'  
'Good,' said Beric. 'Bloody lucky if you ask me. Now how are we going to get the two of you out of there? You're a fair way down, much further than our rope will reach. Is there anything you can climb up on?'

Jon stood, reaching a hand down to Gendry who grasped it firmly and pulled himself to his feet. They both looked around themselves in the dim light. The walls around them were sheer, with no handholds of any use. Ahead and behind them a tunnel stretched into the distance, quickly becoming lost into the darkness.  
'No. Nothing,' Jon called back up, stomach twisting. Gendry moved in beside him, bumping his shoulder gently.  
'What are we going to do?' He murmured, shooting Jon a worried glance. Jon frowned, thinking hard.  
'Chuck us down a torch,' he said to Thoros, who had now joined Beric and Clegane in peering down at them. The two of them waited a few moments, still standing closely together, and then a pitch soaked, lit brand came guttering through the air to land a few paces away. Jon snatched it up before it could be smothered in the snow. 

'Give us a few minutes,' he called to the others. He jerked his head at Gendry, indicating he should follow, before moving into the tunnel to their left, torch held high. He looked around, scanning the walls for irregularities, indications of life, anything really.  
'What are you looking for?' Gendry asked, following closely behind him.  
'I don't know,' Jon admitted. 'A long shot really. Just something Y- someone - once told me about the tunnels out here.' They walked for a few more minutes, Jon still scanning the walls and roof anxiously, before he sighed, stopping abruptly. Gendry wasn't expecting it and crashed full into his back, reaching out to steady himself by grabbing at Jon. He hissed in pain as he did so.  
Jon turned around. 'Are you alright? You said something to Beric about your arm?'  
Gendry waved him off, teeth gritted. 'It's fine. We have bigger problems right now.' Jon frowned but let it go.  
'You didn't find what you're looking for?' Gendry asked.  
'No,' Jon muttered. 'I want to try in the other direction as well if you're up for it?' Gendry jerked a quick nod, steady blue eyes meeting his. Jon felt a bit better that even if he was in a shit of a situation, he wasn't alone. And Gendry was a hell of a rock to have at your back in a bad situation. 

They trudged back the way they had come, the only sounds the hiss and splutter of their torch and the crunch of the rocks of the cave floor under their feet.  
They reached the hole in the roof again, the tunnel gradually lightening as they approached it. Jon barely spared a glance for the other men, still peering down in at them before he crossed over into the right hand tunnel. He repeated the process for several more minutes, scanning the cave walls, before he let out a happy sound, shoulders slumping in relief.  
Gendry came around beside him, marvelling at what was shown in the flickering light of the torch.  
'It's like the ones at Dragonstone,' he murmured, reaching out to touch the large, white figures painted on to the wall of the cave.  
'The Children of the Forest,' Jon agreed. 'All of Westeros was their lands before the Andals and the First Men came. They used tunnels like this one to travel huge distances. This will lead us out eventually. C'mon. Let's tell the others.'  
Jon and Gendry walked side by side back to the hole.  
'This tunnel's basically an ancient highway,' Jon relayed up to the others. 'Gendry and I can follow it until it comes back to the surface.'  
'He's right,' grunted Tormund. 'These tunnels come out in the damnedest places.'  
Jon nodded and continued. 'We can try to meet you at the Fist of the First Men. If we're not there in five days, keep with the mission and we'll meet you back beyond the wall.' Gendry looked at Jon, startled, but Jon gave him a reassuring half smile.  
'I know these lands,' he murmured. 'I almost was a wildling, for a time.' His smile turned sad and a little bitter. Gendry assessed him, eyes glancing over his, testing his resolve. He'd not known Jon Snow very long, in the scheme of things, but there was something solid and honest and earnest about him. Gendry knew Jon would get them out, or die trying. He smiled crookedly and sketched a mock bow.  
'Lead on m'lord.'

Beric tried to argue that the rest of the group should find a way into the cave to continue together but Jon waved him off.  
'It's too risky. Gendry and I were lucky not to break our necks. Chuck us down a couple more torches and a bit more food. You'll all have more chance of hunting up there than we will down here.' Beric frowned but obeyed and shortly a number of small parcels came thudding down into the snow. Gendry and Jon both set about stuffing things into their packs, Gendry now noticeably slower.  
'You lot head off,' Jon called. 'Make the most of the light while you have it. I'm going to tend to Gendry's arm and then we'll start moving too.'  
'Good luck lad,' Beric called.  
'May the Lord of Light be with you,' Thoros added. With no more fanfare than that they pulled back from the edge and disappeared. 

Jon turned to Gendry, meeting dark, steady eyes.  
'Well,' he said. 'It's just you and me now.'  
Gendry grinned back at him. 'I was getting sick of Jorah's moping anyway.'  
Jon snorted a quick laugh at him in agreement.  
'Right, let's have a look at that arm.' Gendry pulled his gloves off with his teeth and reached up with a wince to pull at the clasps on his cloak. He fumbled at the straps for a moment before Jon stepped forward, lightly batting his hands away.  
'Here, let me.' He pulled his gloves off and tucked them into his belt then bent his head, noting absently that Gendry had a good few inches on him. In a moment he'd freed the clasp and pulled the heavy fur cloak from the bigger man's shoulders, letting it fall to the bare ground beside them. He reached up to loosen the ties at the neck of Gendry's leather jerkin, his fingers brushing accidentally against his throat. The other man jumped slightly, before cracking a smile.  
'Aren't you at least going to buy me dinner first, Lord Snow?' He said, his voice slightly husky. Jon flushed, his eyes darting up to meet Gendry's, who was grinning down at him.  
'Don't call me that,' Jon mumbled, looking back down and quickly stripping the rest of the laces out. He didn't know why the comment had flustered him. Maybe it was that the other man always seemed so confident. He must have been with a dozen women across King's Landing. Jon stepped back and Gendry reached up to pull the fur lined leather from each shoulder, using his right arm to lever it gently down over his left. Jon stepped in closer again as Gendry stood in his thin cotton shirt, shivering slightly. He pulled Gendry's shirt sleeve up and whistled low, as he got a look at at the other man's arm for the first time. 

'Did you land on your hammer or something?' he asked, fingertips lightly tracing the marks. Gendry's arm was already purpling with a deep, angry bruise from his wrist to halfway up his forearm. Gendry shivered at his touch, fingertips twitching. Jon looked up at him, heart beating slightly faster at the dark, heavy look in the other man's eyes. He turned away quickly, kneeling down to open his pack. _I'm being stupid_ , he thought. It's just been so long since I've been around someone in that way. _So long since I've had a hard body against mine, moving and -_ He pushed the thought aside, focussing on actions to distract himself. He pulled a small bundle from the side of his pack, grabbing a small roll of bandages. 

'I don't think there's much more we can do for it than wrap it and rest it as much as possible,' he said brusquely. Gendry nodded mutely and held his arm out. Jon reached forward and wrapped his wrist and part way up his arm quickly and efficiently, tying the end off. He reached down and grabbed the leather jerkin, holding it out. Gendry took it, gingerly pushing his left arm in before pulling it on. He began lacing it up again slowly, before looking across at Jon from under lowered lashes.  
'A little help?' He asked softly. Jon stepped in and took the laces from him, moving as quickly as he could and deliberately not thinking about the warmth that radiated from Gendry's body. He swung the cloak around the smith's broad shoulders and buckled it, stepping back. 

'Right,' he said. 'You might not like this, but I think we need to put the torch out and walk without it so we've got it when we need it.' Gendry frowned but nodded.  
'Makes sense,' he said. 'How will we know if the tunnel's branching though?' he asked.  
'The tunnel will probably be straight from what I've been told,’ Jon answered. 'But we can both walk with a hand on one of the walls. That way we'll know.' Gendry nodded and they both hoisted their packs back on, Jon pushing the torch into the snow pile until it sizzled out, then shoving it down the side of his pack. With one last look around the chamber he turned, leading the way into the dark.


	2. Chapter 2

They walked in silence for ages, each lost in their own thoughts in the dark. The only sounds were the crunching of their boots on the tunnel floor and the soft scrape of their fingertips against the wall. Jon started when Gendry cleared his throat.  
'So,' he began awkwardly. 'We didn't have much of a chance to talk on the way to Eastwatch. You were pretty busy with your letters and planning with Jorah and Davos ...' Jon glanced at him but realised Gendry wouldn't be able to see him in the dark and grunted instead, wondering where the other man was going with it.  
'I just wanted to say ... I'm sorry for your loss,' Gendry blurted out. Jon's mouth fell open in surprise. That definitely hadn't been what he'd been expecting.  
'What loss?' he asked. _There have been so many_ , he thought bitterly.  
'Your sister, Arry. Er, Lady Ayra Stark that is.'  
Jon stopped abruptly, flinging out a hand and catching Gendry in the chest. Despite the dark, he spun the other man to face him, gripping his arm tightly.  
'You know Ayra?' He demanded.  
'Knew,' Gendry said, sadly. 'I have no idea what happened to her after the red woman took me away. She must be dead by now,' he said, shame tinging his voice as he recalled how they had parted ways. To his amazement, Jon laughed.  
'No, she's alive. I have no idea how or where she's been, but Ayra's alive. I had a raven before we left Dragonstone. She's in Winterfell with Bran and Sansa.'  
Gendry was overwhelmed by the wave of relief that passed through him and he reached up to grip Jon's arm in turn, which was still clenched around his forearm. Gendry laughed too, a sound that had a hint of a sob in it.  
'Of course she is,' he said. 'I should never have doubted her. If anyone could live through what we did, it's Arry.'  
'How _do_ you know her?' Jon asked, and there was a hint of suspicion in his tone.  
'She's like the little sister I never had,' said Gendry, and he began the story from the beginning. '... we met on the back of a mouldy old cart, headed for the wall ...'

Gendry's voice was hoarse when he'd finished telling and Jon had finished prodding him for more and more details, laughing at times and at others cursing. It wasn't a pretty story. But Ayra was strong, they both knew it. Jon told stories in turn about his favourite little sister and her skill with the needle. Jon chuckled in remembrance, feeling an ache of longing to wrap his arms around her and spin his sister through the air. He would. He promised himself. They would survive the war to come and he would see his family again. 

'Let's take a break,' Jon suggested. 'We've walked for miles.' They sat down against a wall, packs at their sides and Jon shuffled around in the dark until he located a water skin and some jerky. He passed the skin to Gendry and began to chew, leaning comfortably against the wall, shoulder resting against the other man's. He felt even closer to the smith now. When he learned of their connections through their fathers and he'd seen the honest brashness of the other man, he'd instantly liked him and felt he could trust him. Now it was more than that. Gendry had watched over his sister, protected his family. Jon knew he could do no less in return. He let down the last of his guard, fully relaxing in Gendry's presence for the first time. 

Gendry nudged his arm, passing the waterskin back across and Jon handed him some jerky in turn. He brought the skin up to his mouth, the warmth of the rim catching him off guard. _It's warm from Gendry's mouth_ , he thought, the idea sending a strange thrill through him.  
'Where will we sleep tonight?,' Gendry asked, breaking into his thoughts. Jon thought about it for a moment.  
'I guess when we've had enough walking we'll set up camp where we stop. I don't think we'll come across much that's different to what we've seen so far.'  
Gendry grunted. 'Makes sense.'  
'How's your wrist?' Jon asked.  
'Fine,' said Gendry. 'Bit stiff and sore but I've had worse.'  
'Want to push on?'  
'Sure,' said Gendry. 'Let's explore some more of this endless tunnel.'

They walked a few more hours, talking on and off of home, childhood, lost friends. Eventually their steps slowed and by an unspoken agreement they came to a halt.  
'Here's as good as anywhere, I guess,' Jon said.  
'Can we have light for a while?' Gendry asked.  
'I think so,' Jon replied. 'We have 3 more torches and if we're careful with them, that should last us a few hours a day for the next three or four days.' He dropped his pack as he spoke, pulling out the partly burnt torch and locating his flint and striker.  
Laying the torch on the ground, he struck sparks a few times, fizzing brightly in the dark and making them both squint and look away. Then the torch caught and its light was blinding after hours of pure darkness. Jon propped it against the wall and looked across at Gendry. The other man looked back at him, deep blue eyes seeming to look right into him. Jon wondered how Gendry felt about him after the events of the day. 

'You Starks are a different kind,' he finally said.  
'I'm a bastard,' Jon said automatically.  
'No,' said Gendry. 'You're a Stark, same way as I'm a Baratheon. You've got the exact same fighter spirit as your sister and your father seemed like a good man when I met him. Starks are a funny kind of lords,' he mused. 

'We're not lords,' Jon said, 'not like those ones down in the summer lands. We're Northmen. You have to fight to survive up here. You have to know good men have your back to live through the winter.'  
Gendry nodded. 'I have your back. I want you to know that.' Jon felt a swell of warmth at the other man's words.  
'And I have yours,' he said and reached out. The two men clasped hands, a warriors clasp. A promise. 

————

Later, they ate a cold dinner, a few travelling cakes made of grains, scraps of dried meat and rich, thick fats. The kind of energy you needed to keep slogging it out in the punishing cold. The tunnel was cold too, colder now that they were no longer moving. Jon reflected that they mustn't be far below the surface still, or it would have warmed up and equalised out to that slightly cool temperature all caves seemed to have. Instead the air still had the bitter sting of the ice above. 

'Time to put the fire out?' Gendry asked. They'd set their packs and weapons down against one wall and both rolled their bedrolls out against the other. Gendry was lying on his, propped up on his good arm.  
'Probably should,' Jon agreed. 'You're not scared of the dark, are you?'  
Gendry snorted, 'there's lots worse things to be scared of than the dark.'  
Jon smiled grimly, 'don't I know it.' He plunged the head of the almost burnt out torch into a hardened cup of leather until it smothered and went out, the smell of smoke wafting through the air. He laid it down beside his bed in case they needed light in a hurry in the night and then lay back, wrapping his cloak around himself. He lay in the dark for a while, thoughts swirling through his mind, the mission, the Night King, his family, Winterfell, how in the hell he was going to come out of this alive. He could tell by Gendry's breathing and shuffling beside him that he wasn't asleep either. 

'How do you northerners stand this cold?' Gendry finally asked. 'I'd never even seen snow before I came on this mad trip. And now I feel like my bones are made of ice.' Jon huffed a laugh, glad for the distraction from his thoughts.  
'There's something beautiful about the snow,' he said. 'Something pure and new. But yes - it is damned cold.'  
'If you want,' he said hesitantly, 'we could lie back to back and put both cloaks over us? Shared body warmth is the easiest way to stay warm out here.' He flushed suddenly, thinking of Tormund's words days earlier. _You have to keep moving, walking's good, fighting's better, fucking's best._ Last time he'd shared warmth this side of the wall ... Gendry broke into his thoughts. 

'Why Lord Snow, if I didn't know otherwise, I'd think you were trying to steal my virtue,' he joked in a high pitched voice. But he was already moving, unwrapping his cloak from around himself, and shuffling so his back was pushed up against Jon's side. With a bit of fumbling in the dark, Jon did the same, throwing both cloaks over them and rolling over. Both men were still clad in heavy furs and leathers, but slowly, the heat seeped through and they began to warm. Jon sighed, lulled by the warmth and the steady movement of Gendry's breathing at his back.  
'Night Gen,' he murmured.  
'Night Jon,' came the sleepy response.  
And then they were both asleep. 

Jon woke slowly, hours later. He had no idea how much time had passed. He was so warm and comfortable. He began to stretch, only then becoming aware of the heavy weight pressed along the length of his body. Gendry had rolled in the night and was now wrapped around him, one leg tangled through Jon's. His good arm was wrapped around Jon's waist, pulling them together and his breath huffed softly against Jon's bare neck. The heat and feeling of it triggering an involuntary shudder. Gendry stirred at his movements, muscled arm clenching tighter around Jon and body shifting, pulling him harder against the big man. Jon felt a stab of surprise and then heat, as he felt something hard push up against him. He froze, not sure how to react. Gendry seemed to wake up further then, and he pulled back, rolling over.  
'Sorry,' he muttered. But he didn't sound sorry. Jon lay in the dark, feeling strangely bereft at the sudden lack of heat, and contact.  
He cleared his throat, 'don't worry about it,' he said, affecting a light hearted tone that didn't quite ring true. 'Happens to all of us.'  
Gendry sat up, pushing the cloaks off himself. 'Time for the light for a while?'  
Jon wasn't sure he wanted light right now, his cheeks felt flushed and a faint zing of heat was still running through him. 

'Sure,' he murmured, sitting up and fumbling in the dark for the flint and striker. In a moment they had bright light, and Jon looked across into Gendry's heavy lidded eyes. The side of his face was still creased from sleep and his close cropped hair stuck up slightly on one side. He looked ... Jon pushed that thought away looking down at his bedroll.  
‘We should pack up and get going,' he said. 'Sooner we're moving, sooner we're out of here.' Gendry hummed in agreement, dark eyes still on Jon. 

They packed up quickly, skipping breakfast, and began to walk again in the dark, each man lost in thoughts. And if those thoughts were sometimes heated and straying into areas that couldn't be admitted in the light of day, who was to know. There was no daylight down here.


	3. Chapter 3

'I think I could go mad down here,' said Gendry suddenly. Jon was startled out of the monotony of the darkness, the endless steps, one foot in front of the other and the uninterrupted drag of his fingers along the wall. It took him a moment to focus on Gendry's words and the meaning behind them.  
'Are you alright?’ he said, finally.  
'Yes ... and no,' Gendry answered. 'I am now, but a few days from now ....' he trailed off. 'How long do you think we've been down here, anyway?'  
Jon stopped. 'Let's light a torch,' he said.  
'We don't have to,' Gendry said, but Jon could hear the hint of longing in his voice. Jon didn't say anything and in moments, they were both lit up, Gendry looking down at the ground, as if ashamed.

'Hey,' said Jon softly, and Gendry looked up, meeting his eyes. 'I'm scared too, you know. I keep thinking what if we run out of food or water before we get to the end.' Gendry offered him a small smile.  
'I keep wondering if we're getting deeper and deeper into the earth and whether, if we get far enough, the Children will come for us,' he admitted with a blush staining his cheeks.  
Jon grinned at him. 'I'd tell you off for listening to old stories meant for scaring babies, but after what I've seen ... who knows, you could be right.'  
Gendry shivered slightly. 'I don't want to be right.'  
'Let's walk a while with the light,' Jon suggested, and Gendry nodded, a grateful look in his eyes.  
'How do you do it?' Gendry asked, after a while.  
'Do what?' Jon replied, not following the change in direction.  
'This,' Gendry replied, gesturing at the whole of him, with a wave of his hand. He stopped and Jon turned to face him. 'You're so calm. You're lost below the ground, with no way out. You have to capture a wight from the army of the dead to convince the whole world to fight against something they don't believe in. You're the King in the North, the Queen of Dragons wants to ally with you. You - ' he sighed in frustration. 'Just everything. How do you bear it?'  
Jon barked a short laugh. 'You think I'm bearing it? I feel sick out of my mind some days with worry and the pressure of time running away. It's on me to find out how to kill the Night King. It's on me to convince people the threat is real. It's on me to keep my people alive!' Jon’s voice was steadily rising as he spoke, his pent up frustration and fear breaking free.  
'I want nothing more than to run, run to the other side of the world and forget I even heard of the North. But I took an oath. I swore to be the shield that protects the realms of men.' He sighed shakily, wiping a hand roughly across his face. 'I've broken so many other parts of that oath. I can't break this too.' He whispered, looking wrecked and vulnerable. 

Gendry stepped closed, gripping his upper arm firmly.  
'Hey,' he said. 'You don't have to bear this alone. I'm with you. I meant what I said. I have your back. Now and always.' He looked deeply into Jon's eyes and Jon took strength from what he saw there. Maybe he didn't have to do this alone. Maybe with Gendry, he could be himself. Not the King in the North, but a young man who felt lost and scared and crushed by the weight of his responsibilities sometimes, but who would fight to the death regardless. He nodded and stood up straighter, clasping the other man's shoulder in return, a small smile creeping on to his face despite himself.  
'You're a good man, Gen,' he said. 'I think your father would be proud of you.' Gendry smiled at that, a bit of pride filling his face at the thought of the father he'd never known approving of him. 

They stood like that a moment longer, face to face in the light of the flickering torch. Gendry's eyes darkened again as he watched Jon. Jon shifted under his gaze, aware that the mood had changed suddenly, but not sure how or why. He dropped his hand from Gendry's arm and caught a flash of something - disappointment? - cross his face.  
'We should keep moving,' he said at last. 'Light or no light?'  
'Put it out,' Gendry said, his voice holding that slight huskiness again. 'Let's keep it for when we really need it.' 

———

It wasn't long after that, that the tunnel changed. One moment they were walking along, feeling the wall, the next it flared sharply to the left and right, opening up.  
'Hold up,' said Jon. 'Something's different.' Gendry grunted. 'This side too.'  
'I'm going to light a torch,' said Jon. 'We need to know what's going on.' The torch flared to life and suddenly there was light all around them, reflecting and refracting from the walls and roof. Jon and Gendry gazed around in amazement, Jon holding the torch up high. 

They were standing in a chamber about five times as high as they were and about 50 paces across. It was a big, roughly-shaped dome. Like half an eggshell, stuck on the ground with an opening the same as the one they'd come through on the other side. But that wasn't what caused their mouths to drop with shock. The walls and roof of the chamber glittered, they were covered in -  
'Dragonglass,' Jon breathed. 'It's a chamber of dragonglass. I guess now we know another reason the Children of the Forest used these tunnels.' As he spoke he walked around one wall, here and there spotting ancient cave paintings very similar to the ones he'd seen at Dragonstone. There were the Children, fighting against their age old enemy. Jon shivered as he looked into the piercing blue eyes of a group of white walkers. He looked away.  
'Want to stop for a while?' He asked Gendry. 'Here's as good a place as any.'  
'And at least there's something to look at,' Gendry joked. 

Jon shoved the torch between two shards of dragonglass in the wall and they lowered themselves to the floor, both easing off their weapons and packs with a groan. Gendry pulled out food and water, still nursing his bad arm, and leaned back into the wall. They ate in silence for a while, gazing around the chamber. 

'I was thinking,' Gendry said. Jon looked across at him and arched an eyebrow.  
'Before - earlier - you mentioned your vow and how you'd had to break it?' A look of pain flashed across Jon's face and Gendry backpeddled.  
'Never mind, it's none of my business.'  
'No,' said Jon. 'I don't mind. If I had the choice I'd do it all again anyway ... where to start? Do you know the oath the Night's Watch swear?' Jon asked.  
Gendry shook his head, 'not really.'

Jon began, softly, looking at his hands, clasped over his knees.  
‘ _Night gathers, and now my watch begins. It shall not end until my death. I shall take no wife, hold no lands, father no children. I shall wear no crowns and win no glory. I shall live and die at my post. I am the sword in the darkness. I am the watcher on the walls. I am the shield that guards the realms of men. I pledge my life and honor to the Night's Watch, for this night and all the nights to come._ ’  
He smiled wryly, looking up at Gendry. 'I left my post. They haven't given me a crown, but I've taken lands, become a ruler and I've won glory, for what it's worth.' He snorted bitterly at the thought. 'I didn't take a wife or father a child, but I did take a woman. Ygritte her name was. One of the free folk. Fierce and bold and so full of fire.' His voice was far away as he stared out into the flickering cave.  
'Did you love her?' Gendry asked. Jon's eyes refocused back on Gendry's face as he considered the question.  
'Yes,' he said. 'And no. She was too different in the end. From too different a world to be trapped by me into something called love.' He shook his head, as if shaking away the memory of her. 

'What about you?' he asked, changing the subject. 'Any great loves down in King's Landing? I bet the women throw themselves at you.' He said, looking at Gendry's broad shoulders, strong jaw and deep blue eyes. Gendry shrugged.  
'I've been with a few women.' He paused, looking a Jon. 'A few men too.' Jon's eyes widened at this statement and his heartbeat skipped. Gendry continued, as if his words were nothing significant, but Jon thought his casualness seemed a bit forced, as if he were waiting for Jon's reaction. 

'But none held my attention for very long. No one ... I want more than just sex. I want friendship, fun, someone who thinks the same things as me are important ...' he trailed off, as if a little embarrassed at how far his words had carried him. But Jon found himself captured by the words and the open, raw, gaze Gendry was giving him, as if trying to tell him something more than just the words. 

Jon nodded, clearing his throat, before speaking. 'One of my greatest fears is that if I live through this, they'll marry me off to some highborn lady for the sake of cementing future alliances. I want - if I'm going to spend the rest of my life with someone. I want to choose it. I want to want them.'  
'You're the King in the North,' Gendry said. 'You _make_ the rules.'  
Jon laughed, 'if only you knew. I'm more constrained than anyone by the balancing games of power and alliances.'

Gendry frowned, then grinned mischievously, 'So we'll win the war and then run away. The two of us can explore the world together. Tied down to no one and nothing.' Jon grinned back at him, drawn into the fantasy despite himself.  
'I'd like that,' he said, glancing across at Gendry shyly. 

Gendry's playful look morphed into something more intense with Jon's agreement and a look came into his eyes that Jon could only describe as - hungry. The other man shifted forward, eyes dropping from Jon's to flick over his lips. Unconsciously, Jon darted his tongue out to lick them. Gendry drew in a sharp breath at the sight and when his gaze met Jon's again, his pupils were blown wide. Jon felt a stab of heat run through him, pooling at his groin. He shifted forward slightly as well, reacting instinctively. At that moment, their torch spluttered and died, casting them into darkness again. 

Jon felt the tension of the moment break suddenly and he took a shaky breath. 'Well,' he said, hoarsely. 'I guess it's time to keep moving then.'


	4. Chapter 4

'Enough,' said Gendry at last. 'I've had enough for today. Tonight. Whatever.' Jon heard a thud as the other man's pack hit the ground. Then a deep groan and the creak of leathers as he stretched up, working the knots out of tired muscles. Jon was happy enough to do the same, letting his pack fall and sorting out the torch. As usual it took a while for their eyes to adjust, after the perfect darkness of the tunnel.

They ate slowly, methodically, both too tired and too lost in their own thoughts to start a conversation. There was an awkward pause as they rolled out their bedrolls, then Jon lay his down beside Gendry's and the matter was decided.  
'You know,' said Gendry, as they both shed their cloaks. 'I was warm enough last night and I'm sick of wearing these stinking furs every second of the day. There's no danger of frostbite down here ...' he trailed off, glancing across at Jon, as if unsure how the other man would respond. Jon felt a tingle of heat shiver through him at the thought of lying beside Gendry in nothing but a thin under shirt and breeks. The other man's words from earlier echoed in his head. _I've been with a few women ... a few men too_. He looked down.  
'Makes sense,' he said nonchalantly, pleased that his voice stayed steady. He turned away as he stripped off his thick, fur-lined leathers and unwrapped the thongs tying the fur wraps around his legs, letting them fall in a pile beside his bed roll. He shivered slightly, and it wasn't just from the cold. He felt almost naked, standing there in a thin layer of cloth.  
Behind him he heard a soft curse and turned to see Gendry, boots off, struggling with the laces on his jerkin. Jon stifled a chuckle, the other man's frustration leeching away some of his nervousness.  
'Need a hand?' He offered. Gendry looked up at him and smirked, eyebrow raised. Jon flushed, looking down.  
'I - ah -'  
Gendry interrupted his stammering. 'Yes. Please. Damned fingers won't bend enough for me to get these undone.'  
Jon stepped on to the bedrolls, feet bare, and reached for the laces, stripping them out quickly and reaching up to push the leathers off Gendry's broad shoulders. He wondered absently which of them would win in a fight. 

He had reach with Longclaw, and the advantage of training and battle experience. But Gendry had brute strength so far exceeding his. Jon could see it in the thickness of his neck and shoulders, his broad, muscled chest showing through the top of his shirt, narrowing down into a flat, hard stomach and - Suddenly Jon realised he was staring, eyes roving over Gendry's body. He looked up to meet Gendry's gaze again and his whole body tingled at the heat he saw reflected in it. 

'Ah, pants,' he mumbled, gesturing at Gendry's legs vaguely, before dropping to his knees in front of him, to reach the leather thongs. Too late he realised the position he'd put himself in, face level with the other man's groin. He heard a soft, bitten back sound above him and glanced up, sucking in a sharp breath at what he saw reflected there. Gendry was _burning_ with intensity, heat flooding his eyes. 

Jon glanced back down, arousal surging through him in response, taking him by surprise in its suddenness. He reached out and began to tug a knot loose, unwinding the thong slowly, reaching through Gendry's legs, swaying closer to him so he could pass the leather hand to hand. Gendry was breathing quicker now - small, harsh breaths rasped from him. Jon couldn't look up. His heart was beating hard and he could feel himself shaking slightly, heat rushing through him with every brush against the other man's body. Jon finished pulling the furs from one leg and moved to the other, fingers deliberately touching - for the first time - the other man's linen-covered leg as he did so. He could feel hard muscle under his touch, the briefest hint of strength.  
'Jon -,' Gendry rasped. Jon looked up to see that the other man was wrecked. He was panting, mouth open, pupils blown wide. His right hand was twitching as if he wanted to bury his fingers in Jon's hair and pull him hard against his body. Jon saw, with a sharp indrawn breath, that the other man was hard, the length of him pressing against the linen pants. 

He deliberately moved to the other knot and began unwinding the thongs. Something in him gained a bit of confidence at the effect he was having on Gendry. This was new, but it was also something he knew. He didn't know exactly where this was going, where he wanted it to go, or whether it was a good idea. But he was sick of making sensible decisions. For a little while he wanted to just go with what felt right. And this did, damnit. It felt so right. 

He stripped the rest of the furs off and Gendry knelt so they were face to face. His eyes searched Jon's face, as if making sure this was something he wanted.  
Jon crooked a smile, 'It's cold out here,' he said, pulling back the furs.  
Gendry nodded, his breath catching. Jon lay back, propped on his elbows, looking up at Gendry in the flickering light. The other man was still kneeling on the bedroll and he closed his eyes briefly, murmuring something Jon couldn't catch. Then he opened them and Jon lost his breath at the desire he saw reflected there. 

Gendry moved slowly forward to hover above Jon, holding himself up on his good arm, knees spread either side of Jon's legs. His eyes flicked, searching Jon's face and he moved closer still until Jon could feel the other man's breath ghosting against his mouth. The tension and anticipation was ratcheting through him, his breath coming faster and heat pooling in his groin. Jon could feel himself harden in response to Gendry's body. So near, but why had he stopped? He was so close Jon could see flecks of green in his deep blue eyes. Then with a start, Jon realised. Gendry wanted him to make the move. Wanted him to be sure. 

He tilted his face up to Gendry's, brushing his lips gently against the other man's. Just a whisper of a touch. He pulled back slightly, gaze searching Gendry's. What he saw made him draw in a deep, shuddering breath. His whole body burned with need. He leaned forward again, pressing his mouth against the other man's, harder this time, moaning softly at the feeling of his lips, the prick of stubble around his mouth, the taste of him. That was all it took, Gendry's self-control broke and he pushed down against Jon with a growl, his whole body, hard and hot and heavy pressing against him. Pushing him into the bedroll. Jon's hands came up to cup Gendry's face and neck, revelling in the unfamiliar feel of the chiseled, stubbled jaw and short cropped hair at the nape of his neck. He dug his fingers into the other man's neck, pulling him harder against him, kissing him hungrily, desperately. The tension of the last few days - months really - finding an outlet at last. He poured himself into Gendry. All his wants and needs, letting himself be swept away by the moment - the chance to feel good. 

Jon opened his mouth to deepen the kiss and Gendry moaned in turn, licking into his mouth. Tasting him like he couldn't get enough. They writhed against each other, panting, needing, wanting. Jon gasped desperate breaths between hot, wet kisses, his hands roaming across Gendry's shoulders and down his back, digging his fingers in and dragging them up, suddenly hating the layers of fabric that kept them separated. Gendry moved his good hand up, rubbing it briefly along the side of Jon's face as they kissed. Then he he tangled it in the hair at the base of Jon's neck, gripping his neck tightly. Jon punched out a groan, desperate at the feeling of pleasure mixed with just a hint of pain. His hands reached down, cupping over Gendry's smooth, firm arse, fingers digging in. Wanting something - Then Gendry tilted his hips, grinding his hard, hot length into Jon and Jon stilled suddenly. 

Gendry drew back with a shudder, heavy lidded eyes opening to look down at him.  
'Too much?' he rasped, in a raw voice. Jon shook his head mutely.  
'Don't stop,' he whispered. Gendry groaned and bent to reclaim his mouth, rolling his hips again, rubbing their hot, hard cocks together through the thin layers of fabric. Jon was lost in the feelings - his hands roaming over the smith's broad shoulders and back, feeling the glide of muscles playing under the surface, bunching as Gendry ground down into him again and again. 

The other man kissed his way down Jon's jaw and on to his neck, where he paused, inhaling deeply. He laved the spot with his tongue, kissing and licking, grunting in pleasure. Jon gasped sharply as Gendry bit hard into him, new heat flaring through his body at the feeling. The sensations were building in waves. Gendry was everywhere, the heat of his body, his musky, male scent, his weight pressing Jon down. Jon could feel it building and he let himself go with it, getting lost in the moment. He gasped.  
'Gen, I'm going to -'  
'Do it,' he other man rasped in his ear, voice low and wracked with need. With a low cry, Jon gasped as it tipped him over the edge, mind exploding with the intensity of his release. Moments later, he heard a sharp moan as Gendry shuddered against him and collapsed, body pressing heavily on him. 

When he came down from his high, Gendry was nuzzled into his neck, pressing soft, wet kisses into the hollow above his collarbone, still breathing hard.  
Jon looked up at the roof of the tunnel.  
'I'm not sure that was such a good idea,' he murmured. Gendry froze, then pulled back to look Jon in the eyes, hurt and confusion clouding his face. He began to lift himself up.  
'No,' Jon protested, reaching up to cup Gendry's jaw and the back of his neck. 'That's not what I meant.' He increased the pressure, pulling Gendry back down on to him, arching up against his body. 

'This,' he said, gesturing one handed between the two of them, 'was a great idea.' He reinforced that statement by brushing his lips over Gendry's in a soft, sweet kiss. It only stayed that way for a moment before he wanted more. Jon opened his mouth, tongue seeking entrance into Gendry's. The other man moaned again, kissing and licking hard into his mouth as though he couldn't get enough of him. They continued like that, soft sighs and moans falling from each of them.

Eventually Jon pulled back again, licking his lips, breath coming quickly.  
'I meant, this,' he gestured down to their waists, 'wasn't such a good idea. I didn't exactly prioritise spare clothes when I packed for a dead man hunt.' Gendry snorted but rolled to his back, pulling at his pants with faint distaste.  
'You're right, we should try to clean up.' Jon pulled the cloaks back and sat up.  
'Maybe,' he said doubtfully, 'if we leave the clothes out in the cold, by morning we can just brush it off?'  
Gendry arched an eyebrow at him. 'Is this some cunning ploy to get me naked, Lord Snow?'  
Jon smiled slowly, looking across at him through lowered lashes. 'It would be a happy consequence,' he murmured. 

Gendry's eyes sparked and he stood in one swift movement, dropping his linen pants to the ground. Then he grasped the hem of his shirt with one hand and pulled it over his head. He stood tall in front of Jon, sculptured body silhouetted in the guttering light. Jon gaped, breath catching. Gendry was magnificent. Jon ran his eyes slowly up the other man's body, drinking in every detail of the power and grace he saw reflected in the defined muscles. His gaze caught and held on the thick, heavy cock, dangling between his legs. 

'Like what you see?' Gendry asked huskily. Jon ripped his eyes up to Gendry's face, licking his lips again. He nodded dumbly, throat dry.  
'Your turn,' Gendry said, dropping to his knees on the bedroll, pulling the furs up around himself. Jon stood, slightly self-conscious. He pulled his shirt up over his head, muscles rippling. He let it drop to the ground, running one hand through his tangled, black hair as he glanced across at Gendry. He sat in the bed, eyes black and unfathomless in the low light as he gazed up at Jon. 

Jon pulled at the ties at his waist slowly, before letting the fabric fall to the ground, kicking it aside. He stood for a moment, shivering slightly in the frigid air. But Gendry's gaze shot a bolt of heat through him. He couldn't believe someone could want as badly as Gendry wanted him. It was written all over his face. The other man's eyes caught and held on the scars that rippled across his chest and stomach, lingering over the one above his heart, but he didn't say anything. 

'You're incredible,' Gendry murmured, holding the thick cloaks up. Jon dropped to his knees, burrowing into the furs, still warm from their body heat. He lay flat on his back, every nerve in his body aware of the naked man lying inches away. Gendry moved forward slowly, bending over him to pepper soft, gentle kisses on his mouth, cheek, jaw, neck. He nudged Jon's arm up with his elbow and lay down beside him, resting his head in the crook of Jon's shoulder. His body was a burning heat the length of Jon's, naked skin feeling so intimate, so soft after such a long time. Gendry sighed, snuggling in, putting his good arm around Jon's waist. He began to trace the muscles on Jon's chest and ribs. Callused fingers dragging roughly against his skin in a way that made him shudder. He traced over the largest scar, the one over Jon's heart, and Jon could hear the question he didn't ask.  
'I died,' he said quietly and Gendry's fingers stilled for a moment, then began to move again. 'I died and the Red Woman brought me back again. It sounds crazy but -'  
'No,' Gendry interrupted. 'I believe you. At least with you she did some good. With me ...,' he shuddered. Jon didn't ask, now wasn't the time for painful memories. He brought his arm up around Gendry's bare shoulder, pulling him closer. 

'Light will go out soon,' Gendry murmured eventually, against his skin.  
'Mmmm,' Jon agreed, lulled by the warmth, the release he'd had and the gentle, repetitive sensation of Gendry's fingers running up and down his chest. 

'Let's sleep,' Gendry said softly. 'Everything else can wait for sleep.' Jon's eyes were closing as the light finally guttered and died.


	5. Chapter 5

Jon woke, he wasn't sure how much later, bursting with the need to relieve himself. Gendry was curled up against his back, naked body pressed smoothly against his. Jon slipped from the bed noiselessly, shivering as the frigid air burned his unprotected skin. He passed back down the tunnel on bare feet, one hand skimming against the wall, until he was a decent distance away, then took himself in hand, letting the hot stream splash down, sighing noiselessly at the relief. When he was done, he padded quickly back down the tunnel and slipped into the warm bed. 

Gendry murmured in his sleep, laying a bare arm around Jon and pulling him closer again. Jon relaxed into his grip. He wasn't sure that what had happened earlier should have happened, but he was too tired, too warm and felt too secure to think about that now. He drifted back into a dreamless sleep. 

Next time he woke it was to the awareness that Gendry was awake too. The other man was tracing lazy patterns on his bare hip, curled up behind him. Every now and again he would pause to rub his face into the back of Jon's neck, inhaling deeply. Jon cursed the endless dark that meant he couldn't roll over to see Gendry's face, to see how he felt about the night before. To see what had changed between them. 

Gendry must have noticed the change in his breathing as he came awake, because his fingers stilled, and he laid his palm, flat and hot, against Jon's hip. Jon rolled on to his back, putting a small space between the two of them. 

He searched for something to say, some comment to capture the enormity of what had happened between them the night before. Not just the physical, but the connection he'd felt with the other man, the safety he felt in his arms, the way his teasing words and looks felt right, familiar. 

He wanted more of Gendry - desperately. But, he was slowly realising, he thought maybe he wanted more than just the physical release they'd shared, maybe more than Gendry wanted to give him. _I've only know him a few weeks_ , he chided himself. _I can't be thinking things like this. It's just the heat of the moment, the fear of being trapped together, that's all_. Another voice, a small, traitorous one said, _You knew Ygritte for far less time than that and you gave her your heart_. 

_And look how that turned out_ , he thought bitterly, the picture of her staring eyes as he held her to his chest flashing into the front of his mind. He sat up suddenly, pushing the furs off himself. 

'We should get moving,' he said to the man still lying in the bedding beside him. 'We have a mission to complete and we can't do it lying around down here.' He felt, more than heard, the stunned and then hurt silence beside him. He knew he wasn't being fair to Gendry. They needed to talk about what had happened, what it meant. But suddenly all he could think of was the way his chest had ripped apart with pain as though the arrow shot at Ygritte had hit him. He couldn't do that again. Couldn't feel that again. 

He felt around for his clothes in the dark, pulling his shirt roughly over his head before rustling in his pack for another torch. They were down to two. He lit it quickly and shoved it into a crack in the wall, deliberately not looking Gendry's way as he finished dressing. 

They repacked their bags in silence, Jon feeling guilty now at the pained silence coming from the other man as he struggled to put his clothes back to rights, too proud to ask Jon for help. 

'Light out?' Jon asked, as they stood, ready to continue.   
'Whatever _m'lord_ wants,' Gendry said, a hint of sarcasm colouring his tone. Jon flushed and put the light out, stepping forward into the darkness. 

———

They came across two other dragonglass chambers that morning. Both times they navigated through them by feel, Jon not wanting to waste remaining light and Gendry grunting that he didn't care either way. As with the first, they were large half-spheres, with a single entrance and exit tunnel. 

At the exit of second chamber, Jon paused, turning to Gendry in the dark. 'Do you want to stop here for a while?' He asked softly. 'We haven't eaten ...?' Gendry just kept moving, Jon could hear his footsteps in the dark, leading away.   
'Wouldn't want to hold you up, your Grace,' he called back over his shoulder, tone neutral, but the words bit into Jon all the same. He thought about calling Gendry back, trying to apologise, to explain why he'd reacted the way he had that morning, but he didn't really understand it himself. So he let Gendry walk on ahead, following with a heavy sigh. 

Later, they ate as they walked, Jon passing some dried meat and traveling cakes across. His gloved fingers brushed against Gendry's as he did. Despite himself, his heartbeat tripped and a zing of heat shot through him. _What am I doing?_ He berated himself as he walked. _I want him. Obviously I want him. And he wants me too. Or at least wants to bed me._ His thoughts swirled round and round. _He's a good man. Honourable, strong, courageous ... and those eyes._ He shivered at the remembered intensity of the way Gendry watched him. Jon walked on, lost in his own thoughts, paying no attention to what was going on around him. It came as a shock when he found Gendry's arm barring his was, stopping him with a thud. Jon jerked his head up in surprise. Gendry removed his arm swiftly.   
'Something's different,' he said. 'I can hear water and there's this ... smell.' Jon tilted his head in response, straining his senses. He could hear the sound too, a soft dripping and lapping of water. And that smell ... familiar, but not. The tang of metal, and heat and - suddenly Jon's eyes widened and heat flooded his body at the memory of the last time he'd smelt that combination.   
'There's a hot spring up ahead,' he said.   
'A what?' Gendry asked, despite himself.   
'Like a pool of hot water, it's warmed deep in the earth and comes up to the surface,' Jon explained. Gendry didn't say anything in response and Jon sighed.   
'We should have light as we approach it,' he said, 'the ground will probably be uneven and we don't want to fall in by mistake.' He lit a torch, using the light to glance up at Gendry's face, but the other man was turned away, looking forward into the tunnel. 

They walked on, moving swiftly in the light and before much longer the tunnel widened into an open chamber. It wasn't particularly large, about half the size of the dragonglass ones. Off to the right was a small pool of water. It moved sluggishly and Jon could see wisps of steam rising from it. There were two exit tunnels from the chamber and Jon frowned at the sight. He turned to Gendry, who was studying the water with interest.   
'Which way, do you think?' he asked. Gendry looked up, noticing the two exits for the first time. He frowned too, walking over for a closer look. After a while he spoke, 'the only difference I can tell is that this one,' he indicated the tunnel on the right, 'is directly opposite the way we came in, and the other is off on an angle.' He shrugged. 'It's a pretty flimsy thing to hang our lives on.' Jon agreed, but he didn't have any better ideas.   
'Let's go down it a while,' he suggested 'and see if anything changes. If we get the feeling it's wrong we can come back and try the other one.'   
Gendry just grunted in response and started walking. 

The torch had only burned down a quarter before they heard it, a high pitched, whistling wail. 'What's that?' Gendry asked, reaching up to clasp the handle of his hammer.   
'I think -' said Jon. 'I think it's the wind.' Gendry turned to look at him, eyes wide. And then they both felt it, the briefest whisper of fresh air. Jon's face lit up in a huge grin and Gendry returned it, face transforming with happiness and pure relief. Jon's heart thumped painfully. 'Gendry -' he began, but the other man interrupted him. 'C'mon, let's get out of here,' he said, setting off at a jog, heedless of leaving the light behind him. Jon hurried to catch up. 

As they moved the sound got louder and louder, a tearing, howling wall of noise. The tunnel began to lighten too, until they could make out grey walls ahead of them, outside of the torchlight. The tunnel turned sharply and as the rounded the bend Jon laughed out loud. Gendry joined him, eyes glowing.   
'We did it!' the other man cheered. 'We fucking did it.' He sagged to his knees and Jon realised - really realised - for the first time, how much pressure and strain he'd been feeling underground, in the dark. He put his hand on Gendry's shoulder and the other man tensed under his touch. 'Don't,' he said, and Jon withdrew his hand as if stung. 

Jon looked out of the mouth of the tunnel, his initial elation giving way as he really saw what was happening outside.   
'That's a blizzard,' he said. Snow was flying sideways across the face of the cave at terrifying speed and a heavy drift had built up inside the walls. 'And it's coming on dusk by the look of it.' He considered for a moment.   
'I think the best thing to do would be to go back to that pool for the night,' he said, and Gendry looked up at him. 'We can get warm, get clean, and come back in the morning to see if the blizzard's broken. If we go out there now -' Jon didn't bother finishing. 

Gendry nodded and looked back at the mouth of the cave. He took a few deep breaths of air, as if filling his lungs, to bring the outside world back into the caves with him. 'I never thought I would be happy to see snow,' he muttered, then he climbed to his feet and headed back into the darkness.


	6. Chapter 6

Jon wedged the torch into a gap in the rocks near the steaming pool of water then dumped his pack to the ground, groaning and stretching. Gendry was on the other side of the chamber, dropping his things. He pulled some food and a small flask out of his pack and sat against the wall, knees bent with his arms resting on them. Jon glanced over at him and saw him wince as he swallowed a mouthful from the flask.  
'Have you been holding out on me?' he joked. Gendry just raised an eyebrow, face half shadowed. 'No,' he said. 'I think I've given you everything I had.' Jon looked away, the words like a punch in the guts. He had to fix this, the bitterness and hurt the other man was clearly feeling was making him feel sick and guilty. He missed the easy, joking friendship they'd developed, the feeling that Gendry had his back, that he was someone Jon could rely on when there was no one else. He wanted - needed - that back. But if he was honest with himself, he wanted more. He ran a hand through his hair in frustration, trying to think. 

It was warmer in the chamber, the steam rising from the pool taking the chill out of the air. Jon shrugged out of his cloak.  
'I'm going to wash,' he said. Silence greeted his comment. Gendry was focussed on the food in his hands, studiously ignoring Jon. He stripped off the rest of his clothes quickly. He paused before dropping his breeks and glanced sideways at Gendry. Dark, shadowed eyes flicked up from his chest to meet his defiantly. Then Gendry tilted his head back, taking a long draught from the flask, his bare throat caught in the light of the torch. Jon swallowed and let his pants fall, stepping naked into the water. 

The heat was a sweet shock after days of ice and snow. He stood knee-high for a moment, then sank down, sitting on the warmed rocks. He let out a deep groan of pleasure as the water rose to his shoulders, and tilted his head back, leaning it on a rock, eyes closed. For several moments, he just sat, luxuriating in the water and heat, the feeling of weightlessness. He focussed on letting his muscles relax, letting his tension drain away. He could feel Gendry's gaze on him, burning into him, but there was only silence from the other side of the chamber. 

Jon let his thoughts drift, eyes closed. He remembered the last time he'd been immersed in the hot water from beneath the earth. The time a flame haired woman had made him her own. Ygritte's husky voice echoed through his mind. _I don't ever want to leave this cave, Jon Snow, not ever._ A part of him still longed for her, wished they had never left the cave, maybe then - he pushed the thought aside angrily. She was gone. The army of the dead was coming regardless. They could all be dead tomorrow. _If we die, we die,_ Ygritte whispered to him, _but first we'll live_. With a start, Jon realised what a fool he was being. He'd been so focussed on survival these last few months that he'd stopped living. He'd stopped doing things just for pleasure, stopped chasing what he needed to make himself happy. He'd pushed Gendry away on instinct.  
_You know nothing, Jon Snow,_ Ygritte laughed softly. 

'I'm sorry,' he said, opening his eyes to look across the chamber. Gendry's eyes flashed up to meet his, but he didn't say anything, sitting with the flask dangling between his knees.  
'Last night was - it scared me, how much I wanted it ... wanted you.' Gendry still didn't say anything, so Jon went on.  
'I feel ... when I'm with you I feel safe,' he said. 'I -'  
'You don't get to do that,' Gendry interrupted angrily 'you don't get to use me and cast me aside like you're some high lord and I'm just a pretty face.' His words knocked the wind out of Jon and suddenly Gendry's hurt made so much sense.  
'I'm not - I wouldn't do that to you,' he protested, but with a sickening feeling he realised that would be exactly what it felt like to a bastard who'd never met his father - who's father had never thought of his mother beyond a night of fun between her legs. Gendry snorted and took another gulp from his flask. 

Jon pushed up to his knees and moved to the edge of the pool, resting his forearms on the stone and facing Gendry, looking him earnestly in the eyes and pleading with him to listen.  
'Gendry, you're the best person I've met in so long. You're strong, you have so much guts. You know who you are and what you want,' Jon smiled tentatively. 'I couldn't believe it when you walked straight up to me and said "I'm Robert Baratheon's son." I don't think I've had that much certainty and pride in who I am my whole life.' He looked away for a moment, trying to choose the right words, then just went with it.  
'You make me feel amazing,' Jon said. 'I - I want to be yours ... if you'll have me,' he finished softly. Gendry pushed himself to his feet, walking across to the pool. Jon stood to meet him, water streaming from his naked body, skin gleaming in the torchlight. Gendry knelt at the edge of the pool so they were at eye level. He looked Jon in the eyes, a deep, searching look.  
'I'm yours,' he said. 'I've been yours since I met you.'

Jon's breath shuddered out of him in a sigh of relief and he reached one hand up to cup the side of Gendry's face, stubble rasping under his fingers. He ran his thumb softly over the other man's mouth and Gendry closed his eyes, lips parting. Jon leaned forward, other hand coming up to cup the back of Gendry's neck and he touched their lips gently together, a soft, sweet kiss. Then he closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against the other man’s. 

'I don't know what's coming,' he whispered. 'We could all be dead in a few weeks ... but while we're alive, I want to be happy. I want to live. I want to be with you.' Gendry stopped his words by tilting his face forward, capturing Jon's lips in another kiss, deeper this time, lips parting and tongue seeking entry. Jon moaned against him. How could he have thought he could give this up. He kissed Gendry back, losing himself in the sensation of the hot slickness of his mouth and the spicy tang of the drink that still clouded it. 

Then he pulled back, sinking into the water, eyes sparkling.  
'You know,' he said, 'the water really is good. Are you sure you don't want to join me?'  
Gendry quirked an eyebrow at him. 'You may regret that offer,' he said, huskily. 'The things I want to do to you, Jon Snow ...'  
Jon shivered, a bolt of arousal shooting through him, the effect showing clearly through the water of the hot pool. Gendry smirked as he noticed, eyes darkening. He began pulling at his clothes - either his arm was feeling better or the drink had dulled the pain, because he made short work of them, standing proudly naked at the edge of the pool, slowly unwinding the bandage wrapped around his wrist. Jon just watched, kneeling in the pool. He drank in the details of the other man's body, gleaming in the torchlight. His eyes traced the sharply defined chest, the stomach rippling with muscles, the thick cock at the joint of his legs, rapidly getting harder as Jon stared. 

Gendry let the bandage fall to the floor, heedless of the deep bruising traced up his arm. He stepped forward into the pool, gasping slightly at the heat, and sank to his knees. He tilted forward, immersing himself to his chest as he pushed off, bridging the distance between himself and Jon. A small wave lapped at Jon, splashing up over his chest. He couldn't take his eyes off Gendry, who was in front of him now. The other man's naked body settled between his legs, his arms bracketing Jon on either side as he backed him up against the edge of the pool. The Gendry bent his head and claimed Jon's mouth, kissing him fiercely, moving forward so his naked, wet chest slid along Jon's. Jon gasped at the sensation of hot, bare skin. He brought his hands up to Gendry's waist and then around his back, urging him closer. Gendry broke off from his mouth, kissing desperately across his jaw and down his neck, hard, bruising kisses. 'Mine,' he muttered thickly. 

Jon revelled in the sensation and the word, throwing his head back to give the other man better access. He groaned deep in his chest and his fingers clenched on Gendry's waist, digging into his muscles. He pulled. Wanting Gendry closer - wanting - Gendry moved forward in one smooth motion and lifted him, kneeling under him and Jon's wrapped his legs around his waist. Their hard, naked cocks rubbed together, the smooth, hot glide drawing a moan out of both of them. Gendry ground into him then drew back, separating their bodies slightly, the hot water swirling between them.  
'No,' Gendry panted. 'Not again.' Jon looked up at him, dazed.  
Gendry grinned at him, eyes heavy with lust, 'This time I want to touch you.' 

Jon nodded, another bolt of heat shooting though him and Gendry moved up to kiss him again. His good hand slid along Jon's ribs, tracing them down, and over the flat of his stomach. He moved slowly, rubbing across his stomach and down one thigh, gripping and kneading. Teasing. Skirting around the one place he wanted to be touched. Jon was achingly hard now. He grabbed the other man's wrist and guided it to himself, with a hoarse 'please.' Gendry grinned at him wickedly, dark eyes sparkling, but he complied. His big, strong hand wrapped around the shaft of Jon's cock, pulling up in one firm motion. Jon threw his head back, a moan ripping from him. Gendry began to move, up and down, slow, sure strokes. Jon reached for him, desperate for more contact. He crushed their mouths together, fingers digging into Gendry's neck and shoulders, kissing the other man deeply as the smooth glide continued. 

Then Gendry's motion changed and he began to circle the head of Jon's cock, one thumb rubbing gently over the slit, causing a jolt of heat to run through him. He jerked his hips forward involuntarily. Gendry chuckled throatily and did it again. And again. Jon felt like he was a youth again, with his hand under the blankets at night. Gendry had taken him to the edge so quickly. 'I'm close,' he groaned. Gendry slowed his movements right down, breaking the kiss and moving back slightly. He watched Jon, with a pleased little grin, as he panted uncontrollably, his eyes begging for release.  
'Not yet,' he murmured, and he slid his hand under Jon's arse and lifted him out of the pool with one arm, muscles bunching. He sat Jon on the edge and knelt back in the water between his legs, looking up at him, lips parted. 

Now, for the first time, he looked shy - uncertain.  
'I want to taste you,' he murmured huskily.  
'Fuck,' Jon punched out breathily at the vision that conjured. He braced his hands behind himself and leaned his head back, hair dripping down his shoulders. Gendry took the invitation, reaching for his shaft again, rubbing up and down it before bending forward to lick a hot, wet stripe from the base to the tip.  
Jon groaned again, 'Fuck - Gen - fuck.' Then Gendry took his head into his mouth. He pushed forward, tongue swirling as he swallowed Jon's hard shaft, his clenched fist moving with him. Jon reached forward with one hand to cup the back of Gendry's head, fingers moving against his short, black hair as he bobbed up and down. 

Gendry pulled off with another wet, swirling lick to the head of his cock, looking up at him with dark, heavy eyes.  
'Is that alright?' He murmured. Jon cupped the side of his face, his thumb brushing over wet, red lips. He could only smile shakily in return, words beyond him. Gendry turned his face to kiss the palm of Jon's hand, then nipped at his thumb, drawing it into his mouth and giving it the same hot, wet, sucking pressure. Jon moaned again. Gendry smirked at him and leaned forward for a quick, dirty kiss, before he bent his head back down. 

He alternated, licking, sucking and stroking. Jon was lost in the heat, the movement, the fact that this was Gendry - he could feel his release building and knew this time he wouldn't be able to stop. He pulled lightly at Gendry's hair.  
'I'm-,' he panted, 'I'm going to come.' Gendry just grunted and sucked harder, his wet, clenched fist moving faster. Jon held out a moment longer but then he let out a hoarse cry, his hips jerking up as his orgasm was pulled from him. He clenched his hand on the back of Gendry's neck and held him, his body shaking with the force of his release. Gendry gentled his movements, stroking him him slowly and softly, his tongue still moving lightly, taking every drop from him. Finally he pulled back, licking his lips, a fiery gleam in his eyes. Jon shuddered and lay back on the stone floor, his legs still dangling in the pool. 

'Fuck,' he said again, still breathing hard. 'That was - I don't think I've ever felt anything that good in my life.'  
Gendry levered himself from the pool and reclined beside Jon, holding himself up on one elbow. He leaned down to kiss him and with a thrill Jon realised he could taste himself in the other man's mouth. 

He lay there on the cool stone, staring up at the roof of the chamber until his heartbeat calmed and his breathing slowed. He began to gather his thoughts, turning his head to look across at Gendry. 'That-' he said. 'Can I do that to you?'  
Gendry chuckled throatily, leaning in to nuzzle at Jon's neck. 'You don't have to,' he murmured.  
'I want to,' Jon replied, sitting up to face him, leaning in to claim his mouth. Gendry smiled against his lips. 

'Alright,' he said, 'but let's get more comfortable.' Gendry stood, roughly wiping himself dry with his discarded shirt and then moved over to his pack, shaking out his bedroll quickly. Jon did the same, excitement and a low hum of renewed arousal shivering through him. The chamber was warm enough that they didn't need the furs and Gendry lay himself down, one arm crooked behind his neck, so he could look down his own body to watch Jon. His hard cock jutted up from between his legs, the tip glistening. Jon licked his lips, dropping to his knees beside the man. 

He felt strangely shy - uncertain - but he wanted to please Gendry, wanted to taste him, to make him feel good. He leaned forward to kiss him, teasing kisses, biting gently at his lips. Gendry gave a low groan. Jon kissed him deeper, tangling their tongues together, before drawing back, kissing along his jaw then open, wet kisses down his neck. The residual ache of his own neck gave him an idea and he sucked at Gendry's shoulder for a moment before biting hard into the muscle, breathing in against his neck. Gendry grunted at the sensation, his hips jerking up and one hand coming up to tangle in Jon's hair, holding him in place. Jon drew back slightly, kissing the site, and then bit down again. Gendry's voice was a low rasp as he murmured Jon's again and again, cursing softly in a steady stream. 

Jon continued his way down the other man's body, licking, sucking and biting until there was a trail of angry red marks. Gendry's hand remained tangled in his hair the entire time, gripping his neck, encouraging him. He kissed Gendry's hip bone and then turned his head to nuzzle at the shaft of his cock, bringing one hand up to grasp it gently. He was surprised at the softness of the skin under his cheek and turned his lips to it, kissing gently. He looked up to see Gendry's reaction. He was looking down at Jon, chest heaving and mouth opened. He looked like he was holding himself back from flipping him over and rutting into him. 

Jon's heart thumped and he turned back to his task, kissing the hard length in front of him before licking a wet stripe up it. At the tip he paused, the salty tang and wetness catching him by surprise. He drew back slightly and glanced up again at Gendry, who had his eyes closed now. He was biting down on his lower lip, tension running through his whole body, his muscles in perfect definition. 

Jon felt a rush of heat at his effect on the other man and licked again, running hot, wet stripes up the thick shaft in his hand. Gendry moaned his name softly and Jon tightened his spit-slicked grip, starting to move in earnest now, twisting up and down the hard shaft. He licked his way to the head, pausing for a moment before taking it in his mouth, sucking back gently. Gendry let out a sharp moan, 'Oh gods, fuck.' 

Encouraged, Jon did it again, tongue swirling, increasing the suction, moving his fist up and down. Gendry began to move his hips, grinding them up, hand still cupping the nape of Jon's neck. He was surprised for a moment, then welcomed the movement, taking more of the man into his mouth. Gendry gasped and moaned under him and Jon sucked harder, wrist moving quicker again. 

'Jon, Gods, Jon -' Gendry warned hoarsely. Jon didn't let up, and a moment later he felt a tangy wet heat flood his mouth. He swallowed it automatically, waiting until Gendry stilled and then he pulled back, wiping at his mouth. He glanced up at the other man shyly, from under lowered lashes. 

'Your mouth,' Gendry rasped. 'Gods -'. He held his arm out and Jon went to him, snagging a cloak from beside them as he did so, pulling if halfway up their bare bodies. He lay against Gendry's naked body, one hand on his chest, feeling his heartbeat thunder through him. 

'That was ...' Gendry began, then stopped. Jon hummed in agreement. 'Yes. It was.' He breathed in the clean, musky scent of the other man and closed his eyes.


	7. Chapter 7

When they woke later, it was dark again. Jon lifted his head from Gendry's chest to press a kiss against his lips. 'I should check the storm,' he murmured. Gendry huffed a sigh but stirred as well. 'I have to piss,' he muttered.   
Jon lit the last torch and shoved it in the wall before throwing on a few pieces of clothing. Then he disappeared down the tunnel quickly. He didn't have to go far before he could hear the faint howl of the wind again, just as ferocious as earlier. A part of him fretted at further time lost, but the larger part was relieved, content that their small bubble of happiness didn't have to be broken yet. 

He went back down the tunnel to find Gendry, who had pulled out a sparse meal from their packs and was sitting on the furs, lightly clad.   
'There's not much left,' he said, faint worry in his voice.   
'The storm's still howling,' Jon said in response. 'Hopefully it breaks soon and we can see how far away from the Fist and from the others we are.'   
They ate slowly, then Jon cast an eyebrow at Gendry. 'If we have to wait here, we'd probably be just as comfortable in bed,' he suggested, cheeks flushing slightly.   
Gendry looked at him in mock affront, 'Lord Snow, if I didn't know any better, I'd think you just wanted me for my body.'  
'Well-' said Jon, with a meaningful look, and Gendry flicked a crumb of food at him with a laugh.   
Jon doused the torch and they got back under the cloaks, stripping off the few clothes they'd dressed in. Gendry lay with his head resting on Jon's chest and Jon rubbed softly at his hair, enjoying the feel of it under his fingertips. They talked quietly in the dark for a while, each one wanting more details of the others’ life.

'Did you always want to be a smith?' Jon asked him quietly.   
Gendry snorted, 'boys like me didn't get to choose what they wanted to be.' Jon flushed at his presumption, glad that Gendry couldn't see him. He'd forgotten that even though they were both bastards, they'd grown up worlds apart - Jon the acknowledged son of Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell, Gendry the son of a barmaid who'd died when he was young, forcing him to grow up in the slums of Flea Bottom, living from meal to meal.   
'So how did it happen then?' He asked, wanting to understand this man who he was tangling his life with more by the day.   
Jon could feel Gendry shrug against him and his voice rumbled quietly. 'One day Master Mott pulled me off the street, told me some lord had paid my 'prentice fees and I was going to be a smith. Didn't have much choice in the matter.' He paused and Jon could tell he was thinking back to that time. 

'I didn't have a clue what was happening,' he continued, 'when I think now I guess it must have been someone who knew I was King Robert's bastard and wanted to see me set with a useful trade.'  
Jon nodded in the dark, still stroking Gendry's hair. 'Do you enjoy it?' he asked.   
Gendry nodded against him, 'I love it, the heat of the forge, the magic of creating something beautiful from a lump of steel. There's an art to it you know.' Jon could only imagine. He'd sometimes watched Winterfell's smith, Mikken, work and been amazed at the strength and skill it took to bend the steel to his will.   
'I saw Master Mott complete the most beautiful forging once,' Gendry said. 'He melted down and re-forged a Valyrian steel sword. He worked magic that day - real magic - in with the metal.'  
Jon felt a cold shock go through him. 'Ice,' he murmured. 'That must have been my father's greatsword, Ice. The Lannister's had it reforged, I heard.' Gendry stiffened against him, raising his head.   
'I'm sorry,' he said. 'I didn't think.' But Jon calmed him, finding his face in the dark for a kiss, his mind already racing ahead.   
'Do you know how to forge Valyrian steel?' he asked Gendry, his voice intense. 

Gendry thought for a moment, 'I watched Master Mott at the forging, and he told me what he was doing, the elements he burned in the forge and the words to say ... I - I could try.' Jon felt a frisson of excitement tingle through him. He knew the effect Valyrian steel had on the wights, had seen if first hand. His mind raced with possibilities - maybe he could have Longclaw melted down to forge daggers, or arrowheads or - he took a deep breath and pushed the racing thoughts aside.   
That was an idea for the future. There wasn't a forge within a hundred miles of where they were now. He forced himself to relax and reached up to rub gently across Gendry's bare shoulder, enjoying the feel of his smooth skin and the steel hard muscle beneath. 

'What about you?' Gendry asked, oblivious to Jon's excitement. 'Were you always going to join the Night's Watch?'  
Jon sighed and it was his turn to reflect, 'Pretty much. There was no place for a bastard at Winterfell under Lady Caitlyn. The older I got, the more of a threat I was to Robb and the others.' He felt a stab of the remembered pain of his brother's loss. 'I left earlier than I was supposed to, but I would have ended up there in the end.'  
'And now?' Gendry asked. 'What will you do now you're not bound to the Wall?'  
Jon thought for a moment, rubbing soothing circles on Gendry's skin. 'I haven't thought much about the future. About after. I guess, if I live - Winterfell isn't mine. It belongs to Bran, or Sansa or Ayra. I don't know what I'll do. I never wanted to be a leader, I just wanted people to live through what's coming.' He stilled his hand and said hesitantly, 'I'd like - if you want to - I'd like to go away, to live life beyond the North, to see what else the world holds.'  
Gendry pushed up to press his mouth against Jon's, finding him unerringly in the dark. He kissed him deeply, before drawing back.   
'I want that,' he whispered. 'I want that more than anything.'

They were quiet then. Each content to just hold the other in the dark. To stretch the moment out as along as they could. Eventually Jon sighed. 'I should check again,' he murmured. Gendry sighed too, 'A part of me wants to stay down here forever.'

A shiver chilled through Jon at this statement, echoing the words he'd heard so long ago. He hoped fervently that the past wouldn't repeat itself if they left the cave. 

The both packed up and Gendry walked with him through the tunnel. Eventually they came to the entrance, where a weak, cold light was filtering in. Snow still swirled through the air but dawn had come and the blizzard had died.   
'Well,' said Jon, turning to Gendry, 'I guess we have to go back to the real world again.'  
Gendry nodded, then reached for him. The two men embraced through thick layers of fur and leather. Gendry buried his face in Jon's neck, breathing him in deeply. Then he pulled back and the two shared one last kiss, that was over too soon for either of them.   
Jon stepped away, shrugging his furs up around his neck. Then, with one final sideways glance at Gendry, he bent his head and stepped into the swirling snow. 

——

In the end it hadn't been hard to find the Fist of the First men. The giant landmark towered high above the landscape once they'd left the cave and climbed high enough to see.   
Jon led the way through the snow, the going slowed because he prodded the way in front of him with his sword when the snow was thick, not willing to risk a repeat of their experience. On their approach, he was heartened to see fresh footsteps in the newly dumped snow.   
'I think they're here,' he said to Gendry. 'Or have been very recently.' They quickened their pace, climbing up to the rocky outcropping. High above they could see one of the men standing watch, he pointed down at them, then disappeared from view. Moments later, Beric came down the steep incline to meet them. He clasped hands with Jon and then Gendry, patting the other men's arms roughly with fur clad gloves.   
'Well met, lads. I see our Lord wasn't finished with you yet.'  
'I don't know about your lord,' Jon said, 'but we made it. Did you have any trouble?' Beric shook his head in the negative. 'Just been camped out up here, waiting for you and doing a bit of scouting around the countryside.'  
They joined the others on the plateau, exchanging greetings and what minimal news they had. Gendry slumped down, sitting on his pack. 

Tormund moved over until he stood behind Gendry in the snow, reaching down to push at the furs at his neck.   
'You two come across a hungry she bear in those caves?' he asked with a leering grin. Everyone looked over, including Jon, who was mortified to see deep purple marks winding their way up Gendry's neck. The faint imprints of teeth were still clearly visible around one. All eyes turned to him a moment later and he reached up one hand to cup his neck, which he was sure was probably similarly littered. Both men flushed a deep shade of red and Tormund boomed out a laugh.   
'Well,' he said. 'I did tell you fucking was best for staying warm, didn't I.' He turned away, still chuckling. Some of the other men were giving them knowing looks and Thoros slipped Jon a wink, but no one said anything more. Jon was glad. What he and Gendry had was too new, to important to be thrown around by other people. 

Jon was still red faced when he said to the others, 'we should get moving. We've wasted too much time between us in the cave and you wandering back and forth, looking for this arrowhead mountain. We're not even that far from the wall,' he said, gesturing to where they could faintly see it from their high vantage point, looming in the distance.   
'I know which way to go now,' Tormund said. 'I know the lands around here well and I've done a bit of scouting while we waited for your two. I'll have you your dead man before you know it,' he grinned.   
Despite himself, Jon felt a trickle of foreboding at the big man's words. 

———

They were climbing up and over a mound of rocks when they heard it, the crunch of steps and the clank of metal. Jon and Tormund exchanged glances, then crouched low to approach the top of the rocks. Below them walked a file of around a dozen dead men, led by a wight. This was the perfect opportunity. As one, the men ran down the side of the hill, engaging the other force in battle. Jon swung Longclaw desperately against the wight, knowing he just needed to strike it in the right way - and then it was done. The creature shattered into icy pieces. As it did so, all the dead men fell with it, becoming motionless corpses once more.   
Jon span around, looking urgently. There was one dead man left, gnashing and lurching in turn at the men that surrounded it. In moments, they had it restrained and Jon allowed himself to relax a fraction. That had been easier than he could have hoped.  
Then the dead man screamed - an echoing, piercing shriek. Clegane shoved a hand over its mouth, but that didn't do much to halt the noise.   
'Hurry,' Jon muttered to the others, who were restraining the thing. He wanted to move as soon as possible from the site. Then he turned, a low rumble catching his attention. From the direction the group of dead men had come was a noise that was increasing by the moment. All of them now turned to stare in that direction, then the first of the army appeared and they were all released from their paralysis. 

Jon span to face Gendry, eyes wide and desperate. 'Run back to Eastwatch. Get a raven to Danaerys, tell her what's happened,' he demanded quickly.   
'I'm not leaving you,' Gendry protested fiercely, his heart wrenching at the thought.   
Jon clasped his arm, looking him deeply in the eyes. 'You're the fastest. Go. Now.'  
With a wrench, Gendry realised there was no time to argue the point. He forced himself to move, turning on his heel to sprint into the snow. Every step felt like a knife through his heart as he left the man he loved behind.


	8. Chapter 8

_Later_  
'Jon needs me,' Gendry cried, striding towards the door.   
'Aye lad,' Ser Davos agreed. 'But whatever else he is to you, he's yer King as well. And if he ordered you here, then here's where you need to stay.'  
Gendry growled in frustration, running a hand over his short cropped hair roughly. Waiting was killing him, he'd lost a day in the running - the direct route so much quicker than the winding zig zag they'd traveled on the way in, searching for signs of death. Then he'd wasted a day and a night, shivering and weak, piled up with furs and in a room filled with braziers. When he'd tried to climb from the bed, his legs had collapsed under him. He'd never run so hard or so far in his life. He could only hope by some miracle it had been enough. 

This was Jon Snow, wasn't it? The King in the North, the victor of the Battle of the Bastards, the man who had already killed two of the Night King's lieutenants. Jon had already come back from the dead once. And he was surrounded by heroes - the Hound, with his cold eyes; Beric Dondarion, the man who had been bought back to life six times now; Thoros of Myr, with his flaming sword; Tormund Giantsbane with his feral smile and even Ser Jorah Mormont, who looked like he had seen so much trouble in his life. Surely they would be alright, surely the Gods couldn't be so cruel as to take them all. 

Gendry sighed bitterly, 'Fine,' he said. 'I'll stay. But I'm not staying in this damned sick room any longer.' He pushed his way out the door and strode across the snow covered practice yard to the base of the stairs that weaved their way up the side of the massive wall of ice. He mounted them and began climbing to the top. Half way he realised, bitterly, that Davos had been right. His strength felt like it had been sucked from him, by the cold, and by the enormous exertion he'd put his body through two days before. He gritted his teeth and pushed on anyway, the air burning in his chest. He was determined to get to the top. At least the pain and movement distracted him from his dark, despairing. How could so few men fight against an army such as that. Surely all he had done was take the coward's way out, running from them. 

_Jon told you to go for help_ , he reminded himself, the scene flashing back through his mind as he climbed. In his mind he screamed again, _I'm not leaving you!_ But Jon had pushed him away. Had he done that because he had faith they could be saved, _or_ , a traitorous thought trailed through his mind, _had he known they were all going to die and wanted to save you at least_. The thought was too much and he paused, doubling over, gasping for breath and gasping with grief at the same time. 

Gendry scrubbed at his eyes roughly. No. He refused to believe Jon was dead. He straightened and kept pushing his way to the top of the wall, collapsing against an icy rampart when he finally pulled his way up the last step.   
For a moment he just sat there, panting, as he caught his breath. Then he stared, spellbound, everything forgotten for a moment. He'd never seen anything so beautiful in all his life. The whole world was stretched out before him. He could see for miles in every direction, the ice-clear air showing every detail of snowy landscapes and jutting mountain ranges. _Jon's out there somewhere_ , he thought to himself with determination. _He's alive and he's coming back. To me._

At that moment, he heard a deep, thrumming sound and looked around, confused. Behind him, off to the east, a dark spec was approaching in the sky. The thrumming got louder until it was the deafening thump of wingbeats and the dark spec had resolved into three massive dragons, flying North at incredible speed. Gendry stood, amazed, and then he whooped with elation, screaming for joy as they sped overhead. Jon would be ok. He had to be. 

The next few hours were some of the hardest of his life. Gendry paced the practice yard at the base of the wall, anxious excitement running through him. He hadn't needed to tell anyone else about the dragons. By the time he made his slow way back to the ground, that was all anyone could talk about - the awe, and the fear, of seeing a dragon fly overhead. Finally - finally - he heard the deep, thrumming flap again, followed by a long, bellowing cry that sounded full of pain and loss. Gendry shivered, casting his eyes up to see a dragon swoop from the sky. 

The massive beast came to the ground nearby with a thump that caused Gendry to wobble on his feet. He staggered forward, breaking into a painful run. Figures were sliding slowly off the neck of the dragon. Gendry's eyes darted around. He saw Clegane, Dondarion and Tormund levering off a roped and hooded form, the Dragon Queen was there of course, and Mormont, but where was Jon? Gendry looked from once face to another, his heartbeat beginning to smash against his ribs. Grave, weary faces met his. 

'I'm sorry lad,' said Beric gently, clasping Gendry's shoulder. 'We had to leave. He fell under the ice.'  
Gendry gasped out a sob. 'No,' he whispered, then louder. 'No. He can't be dead. He can't.' But no one would meet his eyes. 

'Come lad,' it was Davos this time, putting an arm around his shoulder to lead him away. 'Come inside.' Gendry turned slowly, as if he had suddenly become an old, old man. A sweeping numbness was invading his body, spreading outward from the jagged wound that had just been carved into his chest at the possibility that Jon was gone. They'd only just begun their time together, and now he was gone. Gendry allowed himself to be led away, not caring to where. 

——-

‘He can’t be dead,’ Gendry whispered, staring sightlessly into the flames of the open fire Davos had seated him in front of. Davos sighed, rubbing tiredly at his lined face.   
‘Death takes the best of us, lad. It’s the one enemy that always wins.’   
Gendry shook his head angrily, pushing the idea away - he couldn’t accept it. Accepting it would mean facing the dark pit inside himself that was waiting to swallow him.  
‘He can’t be. He’s stronger than that. I know he is.’  
Davos shook his head sadly, but Gendry didn’t see it. He stood abruptly.  
‘I’m going back up to the top of the Wall. I’ll watch for him from there.’  
‘Alright lad,’ said Davos gently. ‘If that’s what you need to do.’

Gendry climbed quickly, his thoughts swirling round and round. He couldn’t seem to gather them. Couldn’t seen to think straight. He’d known Jon a few short weeks, but the other man felt twined inside his very soul. Snatches of images flashed through his mind as he climbed higher and higher. Jon’s smile, the one he seemed to give more to Gendry than any other. The shy look he gave when he was uncertain about something, glancing up through lowered lashes. The look that had made Gendry want to grab him and kiss him madly the very first time they’d met. His courage - his fierce determination to keep fighting, no matter the odds. His vulnerability - the side of him that didn’t want any of this, just wanted to be happy, to be his own man, to be accepted. His body. His heat. His passion.

Gendry reached the top without realising, stumbling up the last step and falling forward on to the packed ice.

_He can't die. He's the king_ , Gendry thought stubbornly. But then a cold thought twisted its way through his mind. An insidious thought that came from guilt and shame and so many years of being seen as unworthy. _So many other kings have died. Those kings died because of you. Because of your blood._ Gendry cried out at the thought and realisation ripped through him. He couldn’t deny the truth any more. Jon was dead. Jon was dead and it was because of him. Somehow the curse the Red Woman had spoken over his blood in the flames was still taking lives.

He fell to his knees at the edge of the wall, sobs wracking his body. He didn’t know how long he knelt there, pouring out his grief, his pain, his guilt. Eventually, light headed, he looked up. The magnificent view was still there, but Gendry couldn’t see it, couldn’t take it in. Everything hurt, so much. He swayed, looking down for the first time. The void below beckoned quietly. It promised release, relief from the feeling that he’d been torn in half - that he’d killed the man he loved. Tears still streaked silently down his face as he stared down into cold oblivion.

Then a voice inside him said gently, _no, this is not for you. If you can’t live with Jon, you will live for him, in his name._ Gendry took a deep, shuddering breath and sat backwards, moving away from the edge. He couldn’t. Somehow, he would find the strength to continue, as he had every other time in his life he’d suffered loss. He wiped his wet face roughly and stood. He took one last, longing look out over the wilds, a last goodbye to the beautiful man he’d -

Suddenly his heartbeat stuttered and he felt a flicker of hope burning in his chest. Coming from the snow covered tree line was what looked like a horse … and there was a rider slumped over its neck. It was Jon! It had to be. Gendry span, running along the top of the wall, heedless of the slick ice. Beside a small brazier he found a horn hanging. He took it up and blew, and blew and blew. Then he turned for the stairs, taking them two and three at a time, travelling down at a reckless, breakneck pace.

When he reached the ground his chest was heaving and his lungs were burning. He stood, coughing roughly as he tried to suck air. A group of men were leading a horse through the tunnel in the Wall, but Gendry only had eyes for its rider. A shock of black hair above ice-caked furs caused his heart to thump painfully. Jon.

He rushed up to the horse, causing it to shy away. ‘Easy there,’ said one of the men, gesturing at Gendry to stay back. Together three of the men lifted Jon from the horse’s back. His hands were tangled in the bridle and his body was stiff and cold, his eyes closed. One of the men shoved a hand down the neck of his leathers.  
‘He’s still got some warmth,’ he reported. ‘We have to get him inside. Now.’

Gendry followed them as they rushed through the courtyard and into the infirmary. Tormund joined them as they moved into the room and placed him on a fur-lined pallet. There was a fire burning in the grate, which took some of the chill out of the air. Tormund took charge.   
‘Get these clothes off him. Now,’ he gestured at Gendry to take Jon’s other side, as he reached for the ice-encrusted furs. ‘You lot,’ said Tormund, without looking up from his task, ‘clear off. Me and the boy can do what needs to be done.’

The fur and leather made a horrible cracking sound as they peeled it back, and Gendry remembered Berric’s words. _He fell below the ice._ Looking at Jon, Gendry could barely believe he was alive. His face was blue and motionless, his chest, when they stripped the layers off, moving only shallowly. Within moments they had Jon naked and piled under a mountain of furs.  
Tormund turned to him. ’You too, boy.’   
Gendry just stared, uncomprehending. Tormund made a frustrated motion.  
‘You want him to live? Take your fucking clothes off and get in there with him.’ Gendry was jolted into action, stripping quickly.   
‘It's the only way to heat a man up when he's this far gone,’ Tormund continued, watching Jon’s face. ’Too fast is as bad as too slow. If he lives, he’ll be lucky not to wake up minus a few bits …’  
Gendry paused for a moment, eyes darting up to Tormund’s. ‘What do you mean, if he lives?’ he said, a hint of panic in his voice.  
Tormund didn’t reply, he just held up a corner of the furs. Gendry climbed in, shuddering as he wrapped himself around Jon’s ice-cold, still body.  
‘The next hour or so is going to hurt you like hell,’ said Tormund grimly. ‘But if you can raise his temperature enough, he might wake.’ Gendry just nodded, clutching Jon tighter, trying to touch as much of him as he could, gritting his teeth against the contact.  
Tormund gave him one last look and turned from the room, closing the door behind him.

Gendry closed his eyes, pushing his cheek against Jon’s, his mouth against his ear. ‘Come back to me,’ he whispered desperately. ‘Please come back.’

————

It was the most agonising few hours of Gendry’s life. His body burned with cold where he pressed it up against Jon’s and there was a sick, churning anxiety inside of him. He moved regularly from side to side and above the other man, letting parts of his body recover their life before pushing his warmth against Jon's icy skin, again and again. He thought he was making a difference but it was hard to tell. Was the other man breathing deeper? Had some of the stiffness gone from his body? Was his face becoming pinker?

Again and again he moved, whispering to Jon as he did so, a steady stream of murmurs that he was barely conscious of. He told the other man of how afraid he’d been, the devastation he’d felt when he thought Jon had gone. He told him the depth of his love, how desperately he wanted Jon to live, wanted to spend his life with him. He told him silly things, like how his deep brown eyes made his heart beat faster.

After an eternity, Jon shifted slightly under him, his eyes cracking open. Gendry froze, looking down into his face, their noses almost touching. For a long moment, they just stared into each other’s eyes.  
Then Jon smiled - a small, painful grin. ‘You’re not so bad, yourself,’ he rasped.  
Gendry collapsed against him, burying his face into Jon’s neck, his laugh becoming a choked sob as he crushed the other man to him. 

Jon began to shiver after that. Deep, wracking shudders that made his teeth clash together and his face clench with pain. Gendry clutched him tighter, yelling out. 'Tormund? Davos? Someone get in here! He's awake! Something's wrong.' The door banged open and Davos came in almost immediately. Gendry realised he must have been waiting outside the whole time. A little bit of him was embarrassed under the older man's gaze. He was naked. In bed. With Jon. But the much larger part of him just wanted help. 

'Why is he doing that?' Gendry asked, still pressed up against Jon, the furs pulled high up on them.   
'It's normal, I think,' said Davos. 'I've seen it in men been pulled from the sea after a long spell. It's what the body does to bring itself back to life.' Gendry relaxed a little at that but the violent shudders still concerned him. So did the gasps of pain Jon was letting out. 

Tormund soon entered, carrying a steaming mug. He looked at Jon and smiled wickedly.   
'Now you are truly one of the Free Folk, Jon Snow,' he said, with a chuckle.   
'Come. Up with you. Your boy's warmed the outside of you, now we have to warm the inside.' Davos and Tormund levered Jon into a sitting position against Gendry's chest at the head of the bed, keeping the furs piled high around them. 

Jon hissed in pain as he was moved. 'M - my arms and l-legs f-f-feel like they're cov-covered in needles,’ he chattered. Tormund nodded, ‘that’s a good sign,’ he said, ‘mean’s you’re less likely to lose a foot.’ Jon blanched at that and didn’t say any more.  
Davos took a seat on the edge of the furs, taking the mug from Tormund with a cocked eyebrow.   
'Just a few herbs one of our men knows of. Good for healing, pain, sleep .... and stamina,' the big man said, giving the pair a sly look. Gendry snorted. That was the furthest thing from his mind right now.   
'Main thing is it's warm,' Tormund continued. 'Get the whole thing into him if you can, then sleep. His body needs to rest and heal. The danger's passed.'  
At those words, Gendry felt all of the tension and anxiety of the last few days unravel in a great rush. He let out a shaky sigh and closed his eyes briefly, then he opened them and pressed a soft kiss to the top of Jon's head, heedless of the other men in the room. Jon was going to be alright. That was the only thing he cared about. 

Tormund left then and Davos began to feed the warm mixture to Jon, sip by sip. He was careful not to let any spill, dabbing at the corner of Jon’s mouth when he gave a particularly violent shake. Slowly, as he drank, Jon’s shudders calmed until he was just shivering intermittently. His eyes began to droop.  
‘Last little bit,’ Davos murmered. ‘There you go. Sleep now, I think. The both of you.’ He helped Gendry to lie Jon back down and then gathered a few things and left, casting one last glance over the both of them. Jon had turned on to one side and was already asleep, lost in exhaustion. Gendry lay himself along the other man’s back, wrapping one arm around his chest protectively. He pressed a kiss against the back of Jon’s neck, breathing him in. Then he, too, slept.


	9. Chapter 9

Gendry didn’t remember the last time he’d slept so heavily. The room was brightly lit when he woke the next morning. Jon lay warm and relaxed in his arms, breathing evenly. He extracted himself from the bed slowly, not wanting to wake the other man. Someone had stoked the fire during the night; it was still burning, keeping the chill from the room. He dressed for the cold outside and slipped out the door noiselessly.

When Jon stirred later, Gendry looked up from where he knelt on the floor in front of the fire. A large tub of water was steaming gently in front of him as he added another bucket. Jon was facing him, head pillowed on one arm - the furs had slipped down off his shoulder. He opened his eyes slowly, blinking in the light. It took him a moment to focus, then he saw Gendry and smiled softly.  
‘Hi,’ he rasped.  
Gendry smiled, ‘Hi.’  
Jon rolled slowly onto his back, pushing the furs down his body. He pushed himself up on to one arm, then paused for a moment before swinging his legs over the side of the pallet. He slipped forward out of the bed, then buckled, grabbing at it, as his knees refused to hold him. Gendry stood, but Jon waved him away.  
‘I’m alright,’ he said hoarsely, ‘just weak.’ He looked around for his clothes but Gendry got up to hand him a chamber pot instead, turning back to the bath.

‘Probably best if you stay out of the cold for a while,’ he said, as he tested the temperature of the water. ‘Do you want to wash first, or eat?’  
Jon came forward slowly, draped in a long linen shirt. He moved to sit in a chair beside the fire. ‘I feel like I haven’t eaten in days,’ he said. ‘How long was I out?’  
’It’s only been one night,’ Gendry replied, getting up to pass Jon a bowl of meat and vegetables and a water skin. ‘But when they brought you in …’ Gendry closed his eyes at the pain of those moments. ‘You were so still. So cold. I’ve never been more scared in my life,’ he said quietly.  
‘I don’t remember much of it,’ Jon admitted, scooping the stew carefully into his mouth. ‘I remember the battle, and the water … and Uncle Benjen …’ his voice trailed off, but Gendry didn’t press him for details. Gendry moved to sit at Jon’s feet, resting his head against the other man’s thigh. Jon reached down a hand to stroke Gendy’s hair gently.  
‘I’m so glad you’re safe,’ Jon said. ‘You did it. You got here in time. You saved us all.’ His voice was full of pride and another emotion - love? Gendry dared hope.

Gendry shook his head, not looking up. ‘I just ran,’ he said. ‘It was the Dragon Queen that saved you.’ Jon moved his hand to rub at Gendry’s cheek.  
‘At such a huge cost,’ he sighed.   
Gendry looked up at him. ‘Eat. You need to regain your strength.’ Jon finished his meal, neither speaking much. Both content to just be together, to share simple touches. When Jon was done, Gendry took the bowl from him and said, ‘You should wash, while the water’s still warm.’ Jon nodded tiredly and levered himself to his feet. He pulled his shirt up slowly, standing naked in front of the tub. Gendry moved to stand beside him and Jon put a hand on his shoulder for balance as he stepped in. The water came to mid-calf, and he stooped to pick up a wash cloth, before swaying and clutching at Gendry, who moved in to steady him.  
‘Stand, if you can. I’ll help.’

He picked up the cloth, wrung the water from it and stood to face Jon, wiping it slowly, carefully, over his forehead and cheekbones, over his nose and lips, down his neck. He stooped periodically to wring it out and then continued to wash the sweat and fear and grime away, stroke by stroke. He knelt in front of Jon, whose hand was still on his shoulder, holding himself upright.  
Jon laughed softly, ‘I don’t even have the energy to make a joke about this.’ Gendry looked up, only then realising the situation. He smiled wryly up to Jon. ‘We can re-enact this all you want when you do have the energy,’ he said with a grin.  
‘I’ll hold you to that,’ Jon said, dark eyes holding the merest spark of desire. Once he was clean and dry, Gendry helped him into bed again and then took a quick turn in the tub. Jon watched him from the furs, eyes never leaving his body. 

Gendry flushed slightly under the scrutiny, ‘I don’t usually bathe with an audience,’ he said.  
‘I don’t usually want to watch people bathe,’ Jon replied. ‘If I don’t have the energy to show you how happy I am to see you again, at least I can enjoy you from afar.’ Gendry’s cheeks pinked further at the thought of being enjoyed from afar. He felt his cock twitch with interest, but pushed the thought away. Now was not the time. He glanced across at Jon, whose laughing eyes told Gendry he’d caught the reaction.

Gendry dried himself quickly then slipped back into bed beside Jon, leaning back so the other man could rest his head on his chest. He pressed a kiss against Jon’s hair. Jon tilted his face up to capture Gendry’s mouth in a brief, sweet kiss. ‘I’m so glad you’re safe,’ he whispered. Gendry kissed him again. ’You should try and sleep some more,’ Gendry murmured. ‘You still have a lot of healing to do.’ 

Jon murmured a sleepy agreement and lay his head back down. Gendry began to run his fingers through the other man’s still-damp hair, humming softly as he did so. Soon Jon was asleep again. Gendry watched the fire as he stroked his hair, content that all was as it should be.

——

Gendry came back to awareness slowly, not sure how much time had passed. Someone - Jon - was stroking up and down the side of his body. Long, slow, sure strokes, as though he wanted to imprint the feel of him into his hands. Gendry stirred and rolled to his back, pushing the furs down off his chest. The faint embers of the fire gave the room a dim, golden glow as he opened his eyes. It was night again, he realised with surprise. The two of them really had needed time to recover. Jon propped himself onto one elbow and leaned down to press a kiss to his lips without speaking, eyes dark. Gendry met his mouth gladly, happy to see signs of energy in him again. Jon deepened the kiss almost immediately, his need clear. Jon brought his hand up to cup the side of Gendry’s cheek and neck, pulling him up slightly. Gendry gasped a breath, wanting but cautious too. ‘Are you sure this is a good idea? You need more rest,’ he murmured.

Jon kissed him hard again, then pulled back, looking him in the eyes in the dim light. ‘I thought I'd never see you again,’ he replied brokenly, ‘please?’ Gendry couldn't deny him. Not when he wanted so badly as well. He brought both arms up to cradle Jon, easily lifting the other man and sliding his hot, naked body on top of his own. Gendry parted his legs, wrapping them around Jon's, who reached down to kiss him deeply again, tongue delving inside his mouth.   
Gendry could feel Jon was hard against him. His own body was responding quickly to the urgency in Jon's movements. He gripped Jon's arse, kneading the smooth, tight muscles, pulling the other man against him. Jon punched out a groan and rolled his hips, rubbing their hard lengths together and kissing and biting at his mouth. Jon broke off from his mouth, burying his face in Gendry's neck, inhaling him deeply, rubbing his cheek against the skin there before biting down, hard. Gendry moaned, rocking his hips up and Jon moaned in turn. Both of their hands were everywhere now, rubbing, stroking, gripping into each other. Trying to pull each other closer, hips rolling together as they lay twined around each other, kissing each other's bodies increasingly frantically.   
Gendry pulled back slightly, gasping for breath. He looked Jon in the eyes. The other man was gorgeous, dark eyes hot and intense.   
'Have you ever ... I mean, um ... do you want to ...'  
'I want to fuck you,' Jon interrupted him. 'I want to be a part of you.' Gendry felt the breath shudder out of him at those words and he nodded, smashing his mouth against Jon's again. Kissing and biting and wanting. He didn't think he'd ever felt such urgency, such need to act before the moment was taken from him. They kissed again and again, pushing back and forth as they panted and moaned in turn. Then Jon's hands slid to Gendry's hips and under him to cup his arse. Now his movements slowed slightly.   
'I want to,' he said. 'Fuck, I want to.' He sounded wrecked, like it was taking all his control to stop and speak. 'Do you need ...?'  
Gendry nodded. 'It's easier if -' he broke off, reaching out of bed to the small table beside the wall. There was a little glass vial sitting there. Jon looked at him, questioningly.   
'It's oil,' Gendry said, blushing slightly. 'Tormund left it here.' Jon's eyes lit up in understanding and he kissed Gendry again, pulling back and urging him to roll onto his stomach. Gendry complied willingly, achingly hard at the thought of what was to come. Jon ran his hands down Gendry's back, digging his fingers into the muscles, scratching slightly.   
Gendry moaned, rolling his hips against the bed at the sensation. Jon nudged his legs apart and knelt between them.   
In the next moment, Gendry felt a cold sensation as some of the oil was dropped onto him. It was followed quickly by the amazing heat and pressure of Jon's fingers, pushing at him, seeking entry. Gendry punched out a groan, pushing back against the other man and he heard Jon moan as well. 'Fuck Gen.' Gendry glanced back over his shoulder and Jon's look of need and concentration and awe undid him.   
'I need you,' Gendry panted. 'Please.' 

Jon nodded, pulling at Gendry's hips until he'd raised himself to his knees. Then he leaned forward, pulling the other man into a deep, dirty kiss. He lined himself up against Gendry and pushed in slowly, his other hand digging into his hip. As Jon entered him, Gendry hung his head down onto his forearms which were crossed on the bed. He moaned into his own arm at the sensation. Biting against himself at the heat, the pressure, at the fact that this was Jon and he'd never wanted anyone so much in his life as he wanted this man.   
Jon panted above him, 'Ah, Gods Gen. Fuck. You feel so good. Fuck, fuck, fuck.' He bottomed out and then stilled a moment, gripping Gendry's hips with both hands.   
'Are you alright?' he asked hoarsely, his voice raw with need and tension.   
Gendry nodded, head still buried in his arms as he adjusted to the sensation, then he pushed back against Jon, who groaned loudly. Jon withdrew from him slightly then pushed back in. They both gasped at the pleasure that brought. Jon moved again, faster now, fingers gripping into Gendry's hips with bruising force as he thrust against him. Gendry groaned rhythmically as he moved, panting out nonsense words.   
'Fuck - so good - want - ah fuck - mine -' at that last one Jon snapped into him, reaching down for his shoulders to urge Gendry up onto his knees against him.   
Gendry moved, reaching forward to put his palms on the wall. Jon wrapped his arms against Gendry's waist, pulling their hard, gleaming bodies against each other, his chest stretched the length of Gendry's back as he pressed biting kisses into the back of his neck and shoulders.   
'Mine,' Jon rasped, as he rolled his hips forward, pushing into Gendry. Gendry moaned loudly at the sensation. From this angle Jon was hitting some new spot, something that sent a flare of heat through him. Jon noticed and did it again. Gendry gasped.   
'You're mine,' Jon said again, his voice raw as he fucked into him. 'You're mine and I'm yours.'  
Gendry nodded head hanging between his arms as he panted and moaned   
'Yours,' he agreed breathlessly. 'I'm yours and you're mine.' Jon picked up his pace at those words, snapping his hips again and again. 'Fuck, fuck, fu-' he panted.   
'That's it,' Gendry said, reaching down to grab his own cock, achingly hard and dripping from the tip. He rubbed it hard and fast, desperate for the release he could feel building. Behind him, Jon gripped hard against his chest, biting down into his shoulder, crushing their bodies together. He moved his hips once, twice more then stilled, buried deep into the other man. Gendry groaned and felt his own release hit him, spilling out over his hand.   
Both men were motionless for a few moments, panting hardly against each other, Jon's head resting against Gendry's back. 

Eventually they stirred, Jon withdrawing and sitting back on to the bed, chest still heaving, eyes glowing. Gendry turned to face him, leaning forward to press a kiss against his lips. Jon returned the kiss softly, a look of wonder in his eyes.   
'I love you,' Jon whispered, watching Gendry's face. 'I love you so much.'   
Gendry moved forward again to embrace him, wrapping his arms around Jon and kissing him again.   
'I love you too,' he murmured. 'From this day until my last day.' Both men smiled softly at each other at the words, the promise in them. 

'Let's get cleaned up,' Gendry said. 'It's not yet morning and we don't have to face the world for a few more hours at least.' They each wiped themselves down quickly then returned to the bed, wrapping themselves tightly together as if they could get so close they could stop anything from separating them again. The talked together softly into the night. 

Before the dawn they made love, softly and slowly this time. All gasps and moans and whispered promises. Neither of them wanted the night to end. 

With the light came reality and each was forced to reassume their responsibilities.


	10. Chapter 10

It was a knock on the door that finally broke their solitude next morning. Gendry slipped out of bed, dressing quickly in a linen shirt and leather breeks. He pulled open the door to see Davos, who stepped inside, a basket in his hands. Davos glanced at Gendry’s rumpled shirt, hanging open at the neck, and the line of fresh, red marks that ringed his throat. Then he looked across at Jon, who was still in bed, leaning back onto his hands, naked to the waist.  
He quirked an eyebrow, a small smile on his face. ‘Well, I’m glad to see yer both recovering well.’  
Jon smiled despite himself and Gendry felt his face heat, ‘We - ah - that is …’ he stammered. 

‘Relax lad,’ Davos said. ‘As long as the two of you are happy, I don’t much care what goes on.’ He placed his basket on a bench near the door, turned back to Jon and clapped his hands.  
‘Right, yer Grace, if yer feeling up to it, the men have been asking a lot of questions this past day about what happened beyond the wall and what’s to come. I haven’t wanted to say much, and with Daenerys gone back with Ser Jorah, we haven’t been sure who’s to do the planning.’  
Jon sighed, scrubbing a hand through his hair. ‘Right,’ he said, seeming to age suddenly, the burden of his rule falling heavily back on to his shoulders. ‘Let the men know to assemble in the eating hall. I’ll address them shortly.’  
Davos nodded and gestured at the basket, ‘there’s a few things there for the both of you to break your fast on. I’ll see you shortly.’

———

The hall was noisy when Gendry and Jon entered. Davos and Tormund were already seated on the raised dais at the end of the room and Jon moved to join them. Gendry hung back, looking for a seat on the trestles but Jon nudged him to the front. He sat to the other side of the Commander's chair, leaving that for Jon. 

Jon remained standing, raising a hand for quiet.  
'Thank you all for coming in,' he started. ‘As you know, we ranged beyond the wall some days ago. We engaged again with the Night King's forces - the army of the dead. We suffered losses - but because of one man, some of us had the chance to survive.'  
He turned to Gendry, gesturing him to his feet. Gendry met Jon’s eyes, surprised, then stepped forward, stomach churning as he felt the eyes of all the men on him. He had no idea what Jon wanted him for.

Jon turned to face him, face solemn and proud, every bit the King in the North at that moment.  
'Kneel,' he said.  
Mouth dry, Gendry knelt in front of him. Jon pulled Longclaw from its sheath with a ring of steel. He placed it on Gendry's shoulder and then spoke in a voice that carried through the room.  
‘Bear witness. I, Jon Snow, King in the North, do so pronounce. From this day, until your last day, you are Gendry Baratheon, son of King Robert Baratheon, first of his name, former ruler of the Seven Kingdoms.' Gendry knelt, stunned, staring up at Jon with wide eyes. His thoughts were racing and he couldn’t seem to catch hold of any of them. An incredulous smile began to creep its way across his face. Jon gave him a small, private grin in return and sheathed his sword before reaching a hand down to him. Trembling slightly, Gendry grasped it and Jon pulled him to his feet, keeping a hold of his hand. 

Jon turned to the assembled room. 'I present to you Gendry Baratheon, son of Robert Baratheon ... and consort to the King in the North.' The whispered conversations that had sprung up around the room died at the last statement and all eyes turned to the two standing at the front of the room. The hard eyes of hard men.  
Then someone called out, 'Aye, yer Grace, we gathered that from all the fucking.' Raucous, good natured laughter broke out across the room and Jon blushed, only then remembering that at Eastwatch the infirmary sat right next door to the sleeping quarters.  
He looked down and then across at Gendry, as though hoping he'd not done the wrong thing. Gendry grinned uncontrollably at him, unable to believe the words he'd just heard. He was no longer a bastard. And he was Jon's consort. His acknowledged lover. His equal. His heart felt like it was going to burst from the mix of emotions rushing through it. Jon grinned back, squeezing his hand lightly and then turned to the others. 

'Alright, alright,' he said. 'Settle down. I didn't bring you here just to tell you that.' He turned to his seat and Gendry did the same, still dazed from the words he had never expected to hear.  
'We have new information about the Night King's forces and position. I also want to hear your current defensive strategies. It's not a case of if they arrive at the Wall, anymore, but when.'  
Jon continued to speak and Gendry gazed at him, unable to comprehend how he'd found such a man. He would spend every day of the rest of his life making this man happy, and he knew Jon would do the same for him. 

The coming night was a terrifying thing, but Gendry knew that whatever the future held, they would face it together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaand I'm done! Thanks for reading :) 
> 
> I don't know if I will write more of these two, but I'd be interested to hear people's ideas and see if something takes my fancy.


End file.
